


Deleted Scenes

by asle



Series: lonely hearts [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Comfort, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, SHIP DARCY WITH ALL THE THINGS, What am I doing?, and no apologies for no nutritional value
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:33:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 23,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asle/pseuds/asle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deleted scenes from my 'Lonely Hearts and Diseased Hopes' fic...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chastisement

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is! I'll be posting one-shots here (in no chronological order). 
> 
> This takes place after chapter five because everyone wanted to see Phil chastise the Avengers. Please enjoy...

**Chastisement**

 

 

Phil Coulson crossed his arms and waited patiently. 

Steve kept his eyes downcast and ate another helping of lasagne mechanically. He was thankful he hadn’t taken up Clint’s offer of tailing Ms. Lewis even though he’d offered. If he had to answer to Phil _and_ Natasha? No, thank you very much. He was sure Thor would understand. 

Bruce peeked up from his plate and caught Tony’s eyes before shrugging, he really had no idea what the big deal was. Shield spied and kept tabs on him for years, so what if they were doing the same to Thor’s friend? He learned long ago that freedom was an illusion given to people for their compliance as the government dug around into their personal lives. 

Tony reached for his wine and rolled his eyes. He was bored from watching Agent study the two assassins. If they weren’t going to start doing something amusing and fast, he was either going to drag Bruce back down to the labs or wait for Pepper in his quarters. 

Bucky ignored Coulson’s unwavering gaze and reached for his glass of wine instead. This wasn’t his first rodeo and he sure as hell wasn’t going to apologise to Coulson just because he wanted to find out more about Thor’s friend. Nope, he wasn’t even going to offer his defence.

 Clint counted to two hundred. 

And then he squirmed. 

Phil nodded, “I see.” 

But Clint was pretty sure Phil didn’t see or understand. Because what was the big deal? So what if he followed Thor’s friend around. It was _his job_ to follow people and now Phil was trying to make a mountain out of a mole hill? No way in hell was he going to let that happen.

Was there something so wrong with trying to be friendly to Thor’s friend? It wasn’t his fault after all. She was the one muttering to the pasta sauces and even had conversations with the apples in the fruit section. He was curious. It was _his job_ to be curious.

 And was he at fault if he noticed her swollen eyes as though she’d spent the night crying? No. It was _his job_ to notice those kinds of things.

 And he refused to be at fault for talking to her or feeling oddly buoyant that she had helped him grocery shop and even wrote four pages of instructions. Was that why Phil was unhappy with him? Because he followed Darcy’s orders to the minute detail and not Phil’s? 

“Anyone care to begin?” Phil asked quietly. 

Steve shook his head but continued to eat, reaching for another piece of lasagne. Bruce served him another piece and cut one large piece in half, dividing it between Tony and his plate, “The lasagne is really good, Clint.” He said quietly. 

Tony nodded, his eyes sliding between the staring contest occurring between Clint and Agent. “I’m almost tempted to give you my night to cook as well.” 

“Not going to happen.” Clint said automatically, his eyes still glued to Phil’s. 

“I made the damn appetisers and dessert.” Bucky pointed out gruffly. 

“And I’m sure the dessert will be good.” Tony patronised. 

“The salad’s good too, Steve.” Bruce offered. 

“Thanks, Dr. Banner.” Steve smiled. 

Bucky rolled his eyes at Clint and Phil, “Well, I’m getting dessert.”

 “Dessert comes after the plates and lasagne is cleared away.” Clint recited. 

“Oh my god, did she actually write that?” Tony snickered, “Let me see if she wrote that.” 

“She wrote it.” Steve replied to Tony with a smirk. 

“Oh, she’s got you so whipped, Legolas.” Tony grinned. 

Bucky smirked and pushed away from the table, “Since I’m not following any orders, I’m going to have my damn dessert.” 

Clint glanced away to scowl at Bucky, “Damn it, Bucky.” He cursed. 

Phil cleared his throat, “Not that I don’t enjoy staring contests, Clint, but I’d really like to know how all of you know about Ms. Lewis.” 

Tony turned to Phil and studied him, “Why do I feel like I’m missing a piece of information here? Anyone else?” He turned to the others. 

Steve shrugged, “I always feel like I’m missing pieces of things.”

Tony rolled his eyes, “Here we go again. Bucky get the damn dessert before Gramps here gets more maudlin.”

Bucky frowned at Tony, “How about using his name first?” 

Bruce glanced up and almost choked on the last bite of lasagne, “Clint, if you wrestle that ceramic bowl from Bucky, you’ll probably lose and then none of us will get dessert.” 

Tony nodded and turned to watch Clint eyeing Bucky, “Give Metal Arm the damn bowl, Leggy. I want some dessert—what is that anyway?”

 “Mini pavlovas.” Bucky replied stepping away from Clint. 

“What the hell are those?” Tony asked stretching to peek into the ceramic container. 

“Meringue things.” Clint replied.

“Yeah, that doesn’t really help me.” Tony sighed. 

“They’re filled with whipped cream.” Steve offered. 

“And I’m sold.” Tony said. 

Phil sighed and reached for the dish, if they were going to feign ignorance, he may as well play along for a bit, “Clint, get clean plates please. Bucky, clear the table of the dirty plates.”  

 Clint nodded and rustled through the cupboards, Bucky rolled his eyes but did as Phil ordered, and when the table was cleared and Clint placed a clean plate before everyone, did Phil finally dish out the mini pavlovas. 

Tony sniffed and poked at it, licking his index finger when it came away with whipped cream on the tip, “I like this Darcy chick.” 

“Woman.” Bruce corrected before nodding his thanks to Phil. 

“Tell me about it. What were those cheese ball things again?” Bucky asked Clint. 

“Bocconcini. They’re fresh mozzarella balls.” Clint explained for the fifth time.

“I don’t care, all I know is they’re freaking delicious.” Tony added. 

“I’m surprised Ms. Lewis has such a vast culinary repertoire. As far as I knew, I was certain all she could do was use toasters for pop-tarts and make coffee.” Phil commented as he ate his pavlova.   

They all turned to Phil, a few of them blinking and others with quirked brows. “Is this Ms. Portland? Oh shit, is she the _cellist_?” 

“Cellist?” Steve asked Tony. 

“You know who Darcy Lewis is?” Bucky demanded. 

Phil shrugged slightly, “Who do you think is to blame for Thor’s partiality towards pop-tarts.” 

Clint scowled, “You know who she is and you didn’t tell any of us?”

 “I’m sure he didn’t know you were spying on her.” Bruce told Clint. 

“Is she the cellist or not?” Tony demanded. 

“Who’s this cellist?” Steve repeated. 

“Well damn, Coulson.” Bucky shook his head. 

“You knew.” Clint accused Phil. 

“I’m sure he knew Ms. Lewis but not that—” Bruce hedged. 

“Why are you defending the man who dragged you back to New York?” Bucky snapped at Bruce.  
  
Tony turned to Bucky, “Don’t snap at Bruce!” He barked before turning back to Steve, “The cellist was the excuse Agent always gave Pep and I when he was suddenly away for weeks on end.” 

“There’s no cellist.” Phil added calmly reaching for another pavlova. 

“No cellist!” Tony exclaimed scandalised. 

“What?” Steve asked, “Then where’d you go?” 

“To visit my sister and nieces.” Phil said nonchalantly. 

“You have nieces? And a sister? I thought you were a by-product of the government.” Tony commented over Bruce’s quiet voice and Clint and Bucky’s bickering. 

“He’s obviously not a by-product of an organisation. Don’t you remember what I said last time, Tony?” Bruce asked. 

“So Phil’s making a big deal out of all this and he never told us about Lewis!” Clint snapped. 

Bucky chuckled, “Wait until Nat finds out. Oh boy, he’s going to be in the doghouse.” 

 “Natasha’s not going to hurt Agent Coulson.” Bruce told Steve’s panicked face. 

“Well, this is what you get when you trust an agent of Shield. I’m disappointed in you, Agent.” Tony commented, his eyes straying to Bruce’s plate, “Isn’t that your third?”

 Bruce nodded about to reach for another one when Steve stopped him, “Mind if I have it?” 

“After you, Captain.” Bruce sighed. 

Steve reached for the last one when a fork stopped him, “Touch it and die, Rogers.” Bucky threatened. 

“If anyone should have the last one, it should be me.” Clint told the group, “After all, I’m the one that shopped for all—” 

“She helped you.” Tony sneered and reached for it, “And since none of you pay rent here or at the Mansion, this is mine.” He reached for it, “Bruce, do you want half?”  
  
Bruce glanced at Steve, “I’ll share my half with you, Captain.”  
  
Steve smiled, “You don’t have to—” 

“It’s mine.” Clint barked. 

“Hell no, its not Leggy!” Tony snapped.

“I made it, so I get the last one!” Bucky grunted. 

Phil finished the last of his pavlova and wiped his mouth on his napkin before he pushed away from the table, making sure the chair scraped against the floor, “Stop.” He quietly ordered. 

Steve pulled away from the group and leaned back in his chair, his back straight as his eyes remained on Phil. Bruce sighed and let go of his fork, motioning for Tony to do the same. Tony rolled his eyes and jabbed Clint’s hand once more before dropping his fork and crossing his arms over his chest waiting impatiently. Bucky glared at Clint and they quietly counted to three before they both released themselves from the pavlova, “Good.” Phil nodded. 

“Now, let’s be very clear.” Phil began, “You all know about Ms. Lewis.” 

They nodded. 

“Okay. And I take it Natasha is with her as we speak?”

 They nodded again. 

“Sir?” Steve asked. 

“Yes, Captain?” Phil turned to Steve. 

“Thor and Ms. Lewis are having dinner at a diner.” He explained. 

Phil nodded, “Thank you, Captain.”

Steve smiled, ignoring the glares Bucky and Clint sent his way.

“So, may I ask why you all went along with this?” 

Tony shook his head, “I didn’t and neither did Bruce.” He sneered before catching Steve’s earnest eyes, “And Rogers didn’t either.”

 Phil nodded and turned to Bucky and Clint, “Did Natasha put you up to this?” 

Clint scowled but remained mum, Bucky glowered and ignored Phil, “She won’t be in trouble. In fact, the three of you will be equally punished—” 

Tony snickered, “Are you going to spank them? I always knew Clint was into that kinky shit.”

 “Mr. Stark, if you don’t mind?” Phil asked patiently, his eyes unwavering until Tony blinked and looked away first. 

“It’s commendable that you all thought to look after Thor and I’m sure he’s thankful.” Phil began.

“Sir?” Steve interrupted again with a grimace. 

“Yes, Captain?” Phil turned back to Steve. 

“I think Thor will be quite…unhappy if he found out he got the three of them in trouble.” Steve hedged.

 Phil blinked but nodded, “Duly noted, Captain.” He turned back to Bucky and Clint, “When I think of the appropriate penalty for not informing me, and no, Mr. Stark, there’ll be no spanking,” he glanced at Tony until the other man quieted his snickering, “I shall let the three of you know. Am I being clear?”

Clint sighed and Bucky scowled at the table but both sullenly nodded, “Now, if you’ll all excuse me, I have a few things to tie up. Clint, good job on the meal.” 

Clint smiled softly, “Thanks Coulson.” 

They watched as Phil disappeared from the kitchen before they all launched towards the pavlova, bickering and reaching for it.

 

 

 

 

 

              Natasha stepped from the elevator and found Phil leaning against the wall of the hallway with hands shoved in the pockets of his slacks. She heard shouting from the common area and quirked a brow at Coulson, “Should I ask?” She mused. 

He pushed away from the wall, “How was Ms. Lewis?” 

Natasha blinked, yet another thing she learned from him, “She’s fine.” She toed off her heels, giving Coulson her back as she bent down to grab them, a move radiating of trust. 

She padded towards the common room, Coulson walking beside her, “Punishment?” She sighed. 

“I’ll let you know when I figure it out.” He replied. 

She nodded and turned at the threshold watching him walk towards the elevator. It wasn’t until he was about to step in did she call, “She reminded me of someone, Coulson.” 

He shook his head, “You can’t go around collecting wounded animals, Natalia.”

 “Tell that to her sad eyes, Coulson.” She retorted and stepped into the common room, blinking at the sounds of bickering.

“If you touch that pavlova, so help me, I’ll sic Drapes on you.” 

“Don’t shout at me, Stark!” 

“Then let Bruce have the last one!”  
  
“It’s okay, Steve can have it.” 

“No, I insist Dr. Banner, you can.” 

“I made it, it’s mine!” 

Natasha rolled her eyes and stepped into the kitchen, sauntering to the table to peer at the pavlova they were fighting over. 

“It’s mine.” Clint bared his teeth. 

“That don’t work on me, Sparky.” Tony scowled. 

“Says the man with a goatee.” Bucky drawled. 

Bruce blinked and scratched his scuffled chin, “What’s wrong with a goatee?”

“He’s just jealous, Bruce. I told you if you grow one, you’ll look great. Even Pep thinks so.” Tony commented. 

Steve shook his head, “I don’t think…maybe a beard instead, Dr. Banner.” 

“You think so?” 

Natasha sighed as the men began bickering again and reached forward, plucking the pavlova from the plate and biting into it. She turned on her heels and left, happily nibbling as the sounds of the bickering echoed behind her. 


	2. The Watch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place around Chapter Five of my other fic. Please enjoy...

 

Thor peeked into the open doorway of Man of Iron’s labs before stepping out of sight. He waited briefly before poking his head back in trying to bide his time. Winning battles were not just about might, but patience.

Tony rolled his eyes stared at the ceiling, “Jarvis!”

“Yes, sir?”

“How long’s he been doing that?” Tony asked throwing a wrench aside.

“For the past twenty minutes, sir.”

“Ugh, do you think he’s going to ask me to do something weird?” Tony asked wiping his hands on a grease stained towel.

“Weird, sir?”

Tony shrugged and sauntered towards the door, “Kinky…do you think they have the Kama Sutra?”

“They, sir?”

He rolled his eyes, Thor suddenly forgotten to glare at the ceiling with his hands on his hips, “Why are you being so difficult today, Jarvis?” He asked indignantly.

“I was not aware I had been, sir. My apologies.”

Tony snorted, “Somehow when you apologies it comes out insincere.”

He waited until Thor peeked once more into the open doorway before Tony shouted, “Drapes! If you do that one more time, so help me I’ll get Jarvis to steal your hammer.” He grinned, “Jarvis!” He called.

Thor watched nervously as the Man of Iron began yelling at the Voice in the ceiling and stepped into the Man of Iron’s laboratory, “Yes, sir?” Jarvis asked with hints of exasperation in his artificial voice.

“Remind me to tell that to Pepper later! I’m sure she’ll laugh at my brilliance.” He grinned before turning back to Thor.

“Yes, sir.”

“So, what’s up Drapes?” Tony asked Thor. He was thankful Pepper was in the office all day because he wasn’t above admitting he’d play dirty when it came to Thor’s height and arms. But at least he didn’t walk around with long hair and a drape as a cape, so at least there was that.

Thor swallowed, “Man of Iron—”

Tony grinned but wrestled it away when Thor frowned down at him, “Tony.” He reminded.

“Tony,” he began, “I wish to request your aid—”

Tony raised his hand cutting off Thor, “You need my help or a favour?” He asked before shaking his hand, “Aren’t they the same though? So, what do you need?”

Thor blinked a few times before shaking his head, the Man of Iron spoke so fast and in riddles that sometimes he would nod to appease the other man. The Captain had taught him that trick and he made a mental note to thank the other man again when he would see him next, “I am in need of a…” He paused trying to remember what the Doctor had instructed him to ask the Man of Iron for, “a panic button.”

“A panic button.” Tony parroted studying Thor, “I hate to break it to you, Drapes but if you’re in need of a panic button, we’re all screwed.”

He shook his head, “I am not jesting, Man of—Tony.”

“So this panic button? It’ll call us?” Tony asked over his shoulder as he went back to his work station, “Why don’t you get Agent to bring you one? I’m sure he has one lying around in his sock drawer.”

Thor shook his head, “I do not wish to inform Son of Coul on this matter.”

Tony turned on his heels and studied Thor, “Is this for your lady friend?”

“Lady Darcy. I worry about her safety in my absence.” Thor commented.

“So Avengers panic button…I should really come up with a name for that. A necklace…bracelet,” he muttered, glancing at Thor over his shoulder, “how about a watch?”

Thor nodded already walking backwards from the lab, “Thank you, Tony.”

He nodded and motioned for Thor to close the lab doors after him, “Crank the AC/DC up, will ya Jarvis?”

“Of course, sir.”

 

 

 

A few hours later, Tony banged on the door to Thor’s quarters, “C’mon, Drapes! Rise and shine, valentine!”

The door was ripped open and a glowering Thor filled the doorway, “Man of Iron—Tony. The Voice tells me it is but the early hours still; why are you awake?” He demanded.

Tony shrugged and shoved a hand through his messy hair now standing on end, “Didn’t go to bed.” He quipped and thrust a hand towards Thor, “Here.” He dumped the watch in Thor’s larger hand, shifting awkwardly on his feet as Thor studied the watch.

“Tony…” Thor caught Tony’s eyes and nodded gravelly, “I am humbled by your help.”

He nodded and cleared his throat, “No problem, Thor.” He said wanting to be back in his lab away from this entire awkward conversation. He should’ve asked Pepper to deliver the watch, she was much better at these kinds of things than he was. Even if she’d be too busy ogling Thor’s arms.

Thor studied the watch, hiding his pleased grin that the Man of Iron used his given name instead of Drapes but caught sight of something terrible, “Tony, may I ask why this watch has your likeness on it?”

Tony grinned and began backing away towards the waiting elevator, “I thought she’d like to see me instead of you. No offence, Drapes but I’m a real looker.”

Thor frowned, “Tony, it is a Man of Iron watch! Why not a Thor watch? I am sure Lady Darcy would prefer boasting my colours.”

But Tony was already stepping into the elevator with a snicker, “You’re welcome, Drapes!”


	3. The Mugger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy being mugged from a few different perspectives...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for chamberlinofmusic who wanted to see the the deleted scene of Darcy almost being mugged. This one-shot takes place around Chapter Three of the main fic, please enjoy...

**The Mugger**

 

 

Natasha blinked from the shadowed alleyway, her hands sliding to the harnesses around her thighs to comfortably rest on her guns. She’d just gotten off the Hellicarier for an impromptu mission, well…if she could even count the cleaning she had to do for the baby agents an actual mission. 

_Idiots_ , she thought before focusing her attention on Darcy Lewis hurrying from the library steps, her auburn hair flying around her face. She trailed behind, blending into the shadows between the gaps in the streetlights as Darcy jogged towards her apartment. Knowing she was very much alone and hidden, save for the two idiots following behind Darcy as well, seriously, didn’t those two understand she had it all under control; did she allowed herself to frown. 

She couldn’t understand Darcy Lewis. Even after all the Intel she secured, Darcy Lewis still remained very much an enigma. And she did _not_ like mysteries. Darcy stumbled and tripped, her bag and phone clattering to the ground; Natasha stepped from the shadows about to help the young woman, her own cover be damned and if anyone told Fury or Coulson, she’d peel them apart _slowly_. But from her stance half a block away, she watched Darcy push herself to her feet and pick up her discarded items. 

Natasha nodded and stepped back into the shadows, _that’s a girl_ , she thought before frowning. Why was she feeling proud over a stranger? Maybe she did need that vacation Clint kept nagging for her to take. 

She mirrored Darcy’s steps but this time, when a shadow bled from an alleyway beside Darcy, her hands went to her harnesses as she pulled her guns from their home and clicked off the safety. 

Darcy grappled with her attacker, a mugger who did not know what mess he really was getting himself into. He grabbed a hold of Darcy’s arm and that’s when Natasha grew cold, the silence settling over her. She stepped from the shadows, moving towards the two when Darcy surprised her by taking him down. 

Later on, Natasha would pour herself a few shots of vodka and muse that Darcy Lewis was a mystery she’d enjoy pulling apart. Because before the mugger could pull Darcy’s shoulder bag from her person, Darcy had pivoted on her one inch heels kneeing the man, and colour her amused when the asshole got a face full of pepper spray. 

Natasha harnessed her guns and bled back into the shadows with a dry chuckle when still, Darcy did not leave the man and instead, pressed her taser to the man’s shoulder and watched as he convulsed before fleeing. Natasha laughed quietly and followed behind Darcy, making sure to kick the fallen man as she passed.

 

000000000000

 

Clint jumped the four feet distance between the two ten-story buildings grunting quietly as he followed Darcy Lewis. He saw a shadow waver behind her and rolled his eyes, what the hell was Bucky doing here? Even Natasha should be back at the Tower or even the mansion resting. He could take care of Lewis himself. _Morons_ , he thought with a grumble and jogged the empty rooftop of the building, his eyes glued to Lewis on the ground below.

 He glanced at his watch briefly as Lewis left the library, who the hell spent the evening at the library? It was _the library_. But then, before he could mock her, he remembered all those times he snuck into the library to get away from his place and the beatings when he was a kid and then he scowled, his hand itching to reach for his bow. 

Whatever or whoever the hell Lewis was hiding from in the library was going to have to deal with him. Even if he didn’t know her other than she was Thor’s, she was by default, theirs now. And he would not let anyone touch what was theirs. He glanced down at the street below and watched another shadow shimmer and he snorted, if Natasha heard his thoughts, he’d be beaten and left for dead. But it didn’t make it any less of the truth. 

He would figure out Lewis and try to understand why Thor liked her so much, aside from her curves. Oh, even from his perch on the side of the building, he could appreciate her curves. Yet another reason why Natasha was on the ground and he was on the roof; even after her mission she no doubt had enough energy to still teach him a lesson. 

Clint grimaced as Lewis tripped, the things in her arms flying as she tumbled to the ground. He notched an arrow containing a rope and aimed for the dilapidated building before him so he could slide and lower himself to the ground and help her when she brushed herself off and stood up.

 He snorted in amusement and nodded, sliding the arrow back home in the arrow case slung across his back and trailed after Darcy. He hurled himself across another roof and dusted his hands, studying the shadows around her. 

When she crossed another alleyway, he saw a shadow step from the darkened alleyway and grab Darcy. He instantly notched an arrow, aiming in the darkness for the man’s head and bid his time when Darcy began struggling, ruining his perfect vantage point. 

He waited, ignoring the burning in his arms and was about to release the arrow when he suddenly froze as Darcy kicked the man in the groin and pepper sprayed him. He lowered his bow and slid his arrow back in its home with a laugh. His grin widened when Darcy shoved her taser against the mugger’s neck before running from the scene. 

Clint followed behind Darcy and nodded when Natasha kicked the fallen man before he too decided to teach the man a lesson. He stepped to the man crying on the ground and winced smelling stale sweat and fresh urine and damn it, he laughed not feeling an ounce of pity for the robber. “Consider yourself lucky.” Clint drawled slamming his fist into the man’s mouth and stood, trailing after Darcy and Natasha.

 

0000000000000

 

Bucky lowered the black fabric mask from his nose and mouth, idly scratching his jaw from the balcony of an empty apartment across from the library. Darcy Lewis had spent hours hunched over the table by the window and though he itched for Thor to tell her how unsafe it was to sit prone in the window, he wouldn’t. She wasn’t his problem; he owed Natasha a favour that was all. 

She shoved open the glass doors of the library open and jogged down the steps. He sighed and leaving his mask lowered, pulled out his cigarette pack. He lit one and inhaled deeply before shoving it back into his black cargo pants and followed behind Darcy. He slithered down the balconies and rolled on the ground cloaking himself in the darkness as he trailed after her; finishing his cigarette and grinding it under his black combat boots on the ground. 

He felt, rather than saw, Natasha in the shadows near him and Clint above him on one of the roofs and ground his teeth. Didn’t she have a mission to clean up and Clint some air vent to nest in? 

Bucky kept his eyes peeled for any signs of danger and scowled darkly, what the hell was this Darcy woman doing living in a shithole like this? He could smell the stale drunks and desperate drug addicts as he followed Darcy and he did not like it. Not one bit. 

With curiosity heightened, Bucky trailed in the darkened gaps between the buildings after her. He froze when Darcy’s heeled toe caught on something and she flew landing painfully against the sidewalk, her bag and phone scattered beside her. He stepped from a shadowed gap with the intent to help her up when she raised herself on her elbows and gingerly stood up.  
  
He scowled and stepped back into the darkness watching as she picked up her scuffed phone and bag with a wince and hobbled away. Despite the need to keep a safe distance between him and his mark, he found himself smirking. Maybe solving the Darcy Lewis Mystery would prove amusing after all. 

Bucky followed behind, making sure to erase the smirk from his face since he knew he wasn’t alone and glowered instead. She walked a few more blocks, the area growing more shitty until he was all but radiating tension, his body ready to shield her if the need arose.

 She passed by a darkened alleyway and shouted when a man jumped from the shadows and began grappling for her arm to pull her back into the dark crevasse. Bucky stalked towards her, his fists clenched and mask forgotten and still lowered under his chin, intent on ripping the man apart limb by limb.

But then she surprised the hell out of him just as he neared her a few feet away, when with a swift kick to the asshole’s groin. He stopped abruptly and leaned against a building in the shadows, ignoring the faint chuckle he heard from Natasha and a faded laugh echoing from above. He crossed his arms and watched as she pepper sprayed and tased him, his cries of evolving into garbles of incoherent sounds of distress. 

Darcy fled but still he waited with crossed arms and nodded, pleased when Natasha kicked the man before trailing after the younger woman. He smirked when Clint crouched near the man’s face and punched him but still, he remained glued to the building’s side and waited. 

It wasn’t until Clint disappeared from view and he was sure the two of them were very much alone before he raised the partial black fabric mask over his mouth and nose; cold slithering in his veins. With clenched fists, Bucky stalked towards the fallen man, dragging him into the deserted stygian alleyway to teach the asshole a few lessons. 


	4. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor receives a phone call from Darcy...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I don't remember who requested this one shot (the one where Darcy phones Thor) but it takes place during Chapter Four of the main fic. 
> 
> More one-shots will be posted in the next day or so but for now, please enjoy...

**The Phone Call**

 

Steve blocked Thor’s blow with his shield and grunted, shoving hard against Thor until his feet dug into the ground and he felt the blue mats tear beneath him. “Again.” He ordered slamming his shield against Thor’s punch.

Thor winced sheepishly when Steve flew across the training area of the gym and hit the cement wall, “Captain, I do not wish to hurt you!” He stated for the fifth time that afternoon.

Bucky strolled into the gym, clad in his usual black attire and settled himself against the wall, a scowl and vicious grin marring his aloof face. His fingers itched for a cigarette damn it—he slammed his metal fist into the wall, wishing Stark hadn’t reinforced the damn gym so he could at least have the satisfaction of hearing the wall crack, “My turn.” He growled. 

Steve braced himself, raising his shield, Thor shifted on his feet keeping both men in sight as Bucky leapt into action. They broke apart ten minutes later, all breathing heavily, yes, even Thor because the Avengers learned that Bucky quitting smoking was a force to be reckoned with.   

Tony had made an ill-timed joke and now had replace the kitchen table. Bruce had lost control and when Hulk had faced the Winter Soldier, no one had expected Hulk to try smashing him and when that failed, he sulked. Bucky, his friend from decades ago had made the Hulk sulk. He wouldn’t have believed it but Tony had made sure to record the fight and still had it on loop…or whatever he’d meant by that. 

Natasha had argued with Bucky about relaxation methods and now the common bathroom had to be remodelled and when Clint tried to intervene, that had resulted with a hole in the hallway near the elevator and Jarvis still refused to comment about their _interaction._ Agent Coulson had even banned the three of them from the Helicarrier for a few days as well; something to do with air vents, power outages and scared agents. 

Overall, Bucky suffering from nicotine withdrawals meant he was the meanest son of a bitch Steve had ever met and he was more than a little curious why or _who_ had told him to quit smoking. He leaned heavily against his shield, sweat pooling down his grey cotton t-shirt clad back, “Break.” He urged. 

Thor nodded, “We are in need of libations, Voice!” He shouted to the ceiling. 

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Seriously, Thor. You don’t have to shout. Jarvis!” He finished in a shout. 

Steve rolled his eyes, “You need to go for a jog, Bucky.”

His friend glared at him, “Want to run that by me again?” 

“The Captain knows you are vexed, Winter Soldier.” Thor explained. 

There was a humming and a small door popped open in the wall, a tray of drinks resting in the crevasse. “I am not _vexed_.” He gritted his teeth. 

Steve shared a look with Thor, “I don’t know why you’re quitting smoking now, why not all those years ago?” 

Bucky grabbed an icy water bottle in his metal hand and ripped the plastic cap from it, chugging it down in one swallow. Thor reached over and grabbed two bottles, handing one to Steve, “I like these!” Thor grinned

Bucky rolled his eyes, “We know. Water in a clear ‘squishy’ container.”

Thor frowned at Bucky’s mean taunt, “Ignore him, Thor. Bucky’s just _cranky_.” Steve eyed Bucky waiting for him to launch his attack. Instead Bucky flipped him off and stalked to the wooden benches against one of the walls. 

“Why is Soldier vexed, Captain?” Thor asked quietly, or as quietly as Thor could possibly speak. 

Steve shrugged, “I think he’s trying to quit smoking.” 

“Ah.” Thor nodded in understanding, “Natasha has explained it makes men ‘cranky’.”

Steve grinned, “Not just men, but yes, essentially.” 

“Why would Soldier willingly become cranky?” Thor asked walking alongside Steve. 

He shrugged, “That’s what I’m trying to find out.” 

The duo lowered themselves onto the bench beside Bucky, “Soldier, what has caused this change?” Thor queried. 

Bucky glared at both of them, “It’s your fault.” He said spitefully. 

Steve quirked a brow, “Thor’s?”

“His dame.” He replied. 

Thor glanced between the two, annoyed that he’d chosen to sit between both of them. He was going to have a sore neck by the end of this conversation, “Lady Darcy?” He guessed.

 Bucky nodded, “It’s her fault.” 

Thor scowled, slowly standing and towering over Bucky, “You will tell me everything before you condemn Lady Darcy.” He growled about to clench his fist and call forth Mjölnir. 

Steve’s eyes widened and he glanced at Bucky trying to hide a snicker; his friend had willingly opened the wrong door. Bucky sighed but explained to Thor how he’d met Darcy yesterday and after her lecturing him on how he shouldn’t smoke, he finally decided to give it a try. 

Steve grew more curious over Darcy, how was it possible that after a slight meeting, Bucky decided to quit after so many years? He tried to quell the disappointment he felt that he couldn't even bring his friend to quit but forced the disappointment aside. Their friendship was still on the mend; there was no room for jealousy or hurt.    

Thor grinned, mollified and stretched in his sleeveless Asgardian armour, or what he called his ‘homely attire’. “It is true then, Lady Darcy has charmed you.” He grinned. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and stood abruptly, stalking from the gym, “She didn’t charm me, so calm down, Blondie.” 

Steve sighed and glanced at Thor’s smirking face, “Want to go for another round?”  
  
Thor nodded and they both walked back to the centre of the torn mats, Steve raising his shield and Thor raising his arms. They sparred for a few minutes before Steve grunted as he blocked a fist, “How’d you meet her?” 

“When I first came to Midgard.” Thor replied gutturally. 

“What’s she like?” He questioned hitting Thor with his shield. 

Thor grunted, “She is an Asgardian.”

Steve froze earning a fist to the gut before his instincts screamed for him to raise his shield and successfully blocked another blow, “What?”

Thor grinned, “She is an Asgard in spirit though not blood.” 

They sparred, Steve posing questions about Darcy every few minutes between breaths until they heard a ringing from the bench. “ _Gentlemen, I apologise for interrupting your match but it appears Thor’s phone is ringing.”_ Jarvis interrupted sounding both amused and distressed at interrupting. 

They disengaged, and Steve watched Thor stalk to his Starkphone. He grinned when Thor fumbled briefly and brought it to his ear, “Lady Darcy!” He boomed, a pleased smile settling on his sweating face.

Steve flushed, resting his shield against a bench and sauntered over, trying to be subtle about eavesdropping. He feigned a stretch and inched closer to Thor until he was an arm’s length away. He heard murmuring and though he felt a little guilty about eavesdropping, he was too curious about Darcy Lewis to give Thor privacy. 

“Are you in need of me?” Thor boomed with a wide grin. 

Steve snorted in amusement at Thor’s puppy grin and muttered his name, “Nay, not for you Lady Darcy! I was sparring with my shield brothers.” Thor explained motioning for Steve to step closer. 

He sighed but decided if Thor wanted him to eavesdrop then he was going to. He heard the husky timbre of a woman’s and forced himself not to reach over and place his ear against the phone as well. He wasn’t Stark and yes, he had seen Stark do the same thing multiple times. Stark had even tried to eavesdrop on Agent Coulson’s phone call to Director Fury which had resulted in Fury cursing over the phone for ten full minutes. 

“Will you not prefer having an escort? I will ask the Man of Iron for—” Thor began in earnest, seeing Steve’s nod of encouragement. 

Steve heard her murmurings before Thor’s voice boomed in his ear, “Nay but the Voice is ready. Voice!” He demanded. 

“ _Yes, Thor?_ ” Jarvis asked. 

Steve waited until Thor recited the address to Jarvis before whispering furiously to him, “Ask her about clothes. What about clothes for you to wear tonight since you can’t go like that.” 

“Clothing? Why do you ask me such things?” Thor demanded to Steve forgetting to cover the mouthpiece of the Starkphone. 

Steve coughed, hiding a snicker when Thor turned his attention back to the phone, growing more distressed at having two conversations simultaneously. Thor made a noise, “My apologies, Lady Darcy but Captain, one of my shield brothers is reminding me that I cannot attend tonight’s feast in my Asgardian garb.” 

“Clothing.” Steve reminded in a whisper. 

“Ah, clothing.” Thor added more harassed; he’d rather fight a thousand battles than try and understand why he could not wear his Asgardian garbs.

Steve grinned and stepped away from Thor, his curiosity firmly taking hold of him. He wanted to find out more about Darcy; he wanted to meet her and see if she could get him to grin like the few Avengers that had the fortune to meet her had done.   

“I look forward to our feast!” Thor shouted with a wide grin before ending the call and clasping Steve on the shoulder, “My apologies Captain, but I must prepare myself for a feast tonight.” 

He shrugged, “Don’t worry about it, Thor. Do you need help…you know…with the clothes?” He asked with a self-deprecating wince. 

Thor smiled and nodded his thanks but declined, “Nay, I shall be wearing the same garbs… _clothes_ I wore when I last met Lady Darcy. I do not wish to disappoint her.” Steve shook his head with a smirk and trailed behind Thor as they left the gym.   


	5. Panic Button Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Tony Stark reacts to Darcy pressing the panic button

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By popular demand (I think almost everyone that commented on my main story wanted to see how the various Avengers react to Darcy being hurt) I present to you one of four chapters/one-shots. I'll be spacing out the posting (maybe one a day) because after a while, I have a feeling it'll become tedious to read them all since they all take place at the same time (they were the *worst* to write. I was so close to poking my eyes out in tedium but hopefully they don't read that way). (Can you tell I also like to write in brackets?) 
> 
> This takes place from Chapter Eight and Nine in the main fic.
> 
> Anyway, thank you again for such great feedback and comments. Honestly, when I say I write for you, I do (ask one reader who inspired me so much I pulled an all-nighter and wrote three chapters). So thank you everyone, please enjoy...

**Panic Button**

**Part One**

 

Much later than she would have liked and knowing a full bottle of vintage Merlot and Tony’s famous backrubs would be the cure for a terrible day, Pepper Potts stepped onto her and Tony’s shared floor in the Avenger’s Tower as the elevator’s doors slid quietly shut behind her. 

Dropping her black stilettos on the grey tiled floor with a loud thud in the oddly quiet den, she immediately went to the leather bar on one side of the room. She didn’t bother calling out for Tony, he would have known the moment she stepped into the elevator that she was coming home, unless he was bent over his latest invention in the lab. Then she’d never get her much needed backrub. 

With a sigh that bordered on a groan, she rummaged through trying to find the right vintage of wine instead of reaching for something harder. Her fingers grazed her favourite bottle of rum before retracting with a defeated sigh before she settled upon her usual wine. It was a safe choice and knowing she had to wake up for an impromptu meeting before her actual day began meant no rum for her. 

“Jarvis?” She called out. 

 _“Yes, Ms Potts?”_  

“Can you pull up HR’s file on a Lewis, please?” Though for the life of her, she couldn’t remember why that name sounded so damn familiar, even though she had never seen or met the girl before. Maybe she really was more exhausted than she had thought. 

 _“Certainly, Ms Potts.”_  

She poured two glasses of wine and cradled her glass, sipping leisurely and let the burgundy liquid blossom over her tongue. Spicy yet sweet with a bite of tannins in the finish, her favourite. 

 _“The file has been loaded and is ready for your perusal, Ms Potts.”_  

“Thank you, Jarvis.” She stepped towards the screen and distractedly tugged her ivory blazer from her shoulders and let it fall on the floor. 

“Hey, Pep.” Tony’s voice broke through her concentration and she glanced at him over her shoulder briefly as he stalked towards her. 

“Hi Tony. Wash your hands?” She reminded with a grin and moved her head aside to let him nibble at her neck, his grease stained hands resting on her hips. Even though it stained the fabric, she didn’t care because _this_ is what she had been waiting all day for. 

He murmured and kissed a path along her collarbone to her jaw, his eyes flickering briefly to the screen with a frown, “Why do you have Drape’s Melons on the screen?” 

She turned around in his arms mindful of the wineglass in her hand, returning his distracted frown, “Tony, what did we say about epithets?” 

“Aside from deciding that was the stupidest name for nicknames?” He rolled his eyes, his brilliance was wasted when he recognised the look on her face. “Thor’s ‘girlfriend’ on the side.” 

The name clicked in her mind; she remembered making a vague promise to Tony in bed a few weeks past. Something about not getting involved with an insignificant hiring for an assistant’s job? She really should make him promise not to bring important things to bed if she was to remember _everything_. 

“He’s cheating on Ms Foster?” She asked astounded that Thor, with his big blue eyes and puppy dog pouts and yes, his madly impressive arms, had a girl on the side, “I thought he was happy with her?” 

Tony shrugged, “All I know is that she’s the one that Natasha promised we should leave alone.” He glanced speculatively at her with a smug grin, “You don’t remember? Damn, Potts, I didn’t know that position got you hot enough to forget—” 

She covered his mouth with her hand and stifled a laugh, “I remember, I remember. So wait…Thor’s girlfriend is working at Stark Industries? No wonder you made me promise, I would have never hired her if I’d have known.” 

He pried her hand from his mouth and kissed the palm, “What about letting her work speak for itself or some crap?” He muttered wondering what other nonsense Natasha had sprouted off to him. 

She scowled, “I wouldn’t stand for it and I know Ms Foster wouldn’t either. We’ve got to look out for each other.”

“Is this where you rip your bra off and burn it ranting at how men suck?” He teased. 

Pepper kissed him briefly before pulling away, “This is where I sic Natasha on Thor.” 

He winced, regardless of how he teased Thor, he still felt the need to defend his fellow male Avenger, “Not necessary.”

“Really?” She asked sceptically. 

He nodded and kissed her on the tip of her nose, “I’m almost certain that Ms Melons is just a friend.” 

“How certain?” 

“Certain enough to promise to Natasha that I won’t snoop.” He replied and kissed her hungrily. 

 _“Mr Stark.”_ Jarvis’ anxious voice broke through. 

Tony groaned but pulled away, “What is it, Jarvis?” 

 _“Lewis’ panic button has been activated—”_  

Tony ripped himself away from Pepper and was halfway across the large den when a bookcase swivelled disappearing in the wall and his Iron Man suit took its place, “Activate the sound and alert the others.” He demanded over the whirling of his suit as he stepped into it. 

Unbeknownst to Thor, he had built in a recording device in the watch as yet another safety precaution, or rather, a desperate measure in case the bad guys got away, or so he had told himself at the time. Though when the Avengers assembled, that was never an issue either. The real truth was, he hated the one dimensional panic button and the unknowns of stepping into a fight blind and deaf. He still hadn’t perfected making a lens small enough to record video, but he had gotten the audio down. 

A second later, a woman’s pain filled and terror laced screams, and sickening wet sounds of bones and flesh being beaten filled the air and he heard Pepper gasp, her wine glass shattering on the tiled floor. The wine and tiny shards of glass splattered around her bare feet but she turned desperate and pleading eyes to him, “Go, Tony! Before it’s too late!” 

He nodded and stepped onto the new ledge he had built on the balcony, his heartbeat roaring in his ears. What if he was too late? What if he didn’t get there on time? “Agent.” He said hoarsely, his mouth suddenly dry. 

 _“Stark.”_ Coulson’s calm voice broke through his daze and he ripped through the darkened sky towards the address Jarvis had supplied. 

“Get a hold of Thor.” He demanded. 

 _“Already on it.”_ Was it his imagination or did Coulson sound like he too had swallowed glass? 

“Fuck.” He cursed, panic eating away at his nerves. He hadn’t felt this jittery since his first fight and he _hated_ it. This is why he hated caring about people and somehow, along the way he had found himself caring for a girl he had never met. He hadn’t realised he’d let her in past his guard until he found himself spending an entire night making an Iron Man-panic button-watch for someone he had no business thinking about. 

 _“We’re on our way.”_ Captain’s calm but steel laced voice said. 

 _“ETA: two minutes.”_ Hawkeye stated. 

 _“I’m here.”_ Widow’s breathy voice interrupted before their communication frequency was filled with Russian curses and men’s pain laced cries were drowned out by gunfire. _“They’re mercs. I need reinforcements; they’ve got the place,”_ more Russian curses filled the air, _“surrounded.”_  

 _“Fuck.”_ Soldier cursed, _“Can this thing go any faster?”_  

 _“We’re almost there.”_ Clint bit out over their frequency. 

 _“Thor’s been notified and is on his way.”_ Coulson’s calm voice, though slightly hoarse broke through. 

But Tony wasn’t going to call out Coulson’s rough voice because it wouldn’t be until later that he realised all of their voices had been just as rough and none of them would ever admit it either. 

He landed on the sidewalk littered with fallen men and spied Widow fighting her way up the staircase as more men came barrelling down, “Allow me.” He bared his teeth and pointed both open palms to the men covered in black as she jumped over the railing and crouched away from the spray of bullets as he felled the men. 

A blur of blue, red and white shot past as both the Captain and Widow ran towards the screaming. Without any words being exchanged, the rest of the Avengers formed a tight circle around the apartment building and slowly moved inwards. 

Later, Tony would worry and quite frankly, be _very pissed_ that no one in Lewis’ entire apartment building came out throughout all of the screaming, and shooting. At least there were no casualties other than the mercenaries. 

Pepper would later try and calm him down telling him it was because the apartment building was in a terribly dangerous neighbourhood but that had only riled Tony up even more. Eventually, he had turned to his lab for refuge when his rage didn’t abate. 

Arrows whizzed around him as he fought alongside Soldier as they covered Captain and Widow’s backs. Finally, after four minutes of intense fighting and more shooting, the noise suddenly stopped. Even the screaming. Oh how Tony wished the screaming hadn’t stopped. 

He waited until he heard Captain’s soothing voice over their com and a shaky whimpering before he turned around and left, flying higher in the night sky to make sure they hadn’t missed any stragglers. 

 _“Any survivors?”_ Coulson’s voice asked over their com. 

 _“I left one or two alive. I’m sure there are more.”_ Soldier’s cold voice stated.

 _“Good.”_ Came Coulson’s grim reply. 

It wasn’t long before Captain holding a bloodied girl in his arms covered by his shield, jaw clenched tighter than Tony had ever seen and a dour Widow walked beside him and a scowling Hawkeye covering the rear stepped from the building. 

Tony lowered himself before them, “Holy shit.” He breathed, his eyes racking over a bloodied and torn girl so unrecognisable from the girl in the photo he’d seen in her file that he couldn’t control the tremor that shook his shout, “Agent!” He called over his shoulder. 

Two black vans pulled up behind them on the street and the Shield agents stepped from the vans and streamed past the Avengers into the building. Coulson stepped up beside Tony and scowled down at the bloodied woman cradled in the Captain’s arms, “Find them and bring them to me.” He ordered, glancing behind Captain’s shoulder, “Soldier is waiting.” Hawkeye and Widow nodded and left, though not before Tony caught the worried glance Widow gave the unconscious woman. 

“She needs a doctor.” Captain demanded to them both. 

Tony shifted about to reach for her as Coulson shrugged out of his suit jacket and laid it gently over the woman, “Banner is already waiting.” He said gently, more for Captain’s benefit than for Darcy’s. Tony recognised the tone; it was the same tone Pepper used on him after he woke up shuddering from a nightmare. 

When Captain hadn’t made a move to relinquish her, Tony added, “She’ll be at the mansion in a private room. Captain, I’ll take her.” Tony slowly stepped up to Captain, holding placating hands out when he realised the Captain was on the verge of taking him down rather than handing over his charge. 

“Captain.” Coulson said gently as they both watched Captain fight his inner turmoil. 

“It’ll be faster.” Tony explained, taking another step to close the distance between them as the Captain tenderly passed her in Tony’s armoured covered arms, “We’ll meet you there, okay Captain? But Agent needs help with cleaning up.” He said kindly as he nestled Lewis closer to his covered chest. He didn’t dare steal a glance, not when he was so close to losing it, just as they all were.   

Captain’s eyes remained glued to Lewis before he nodded resolutely, “I’ll get Black Widow to pack her clothes.” He said gravelly. 

Tony nodded and pushed away from the ground, lifting them both into the cold night air, leaving the nightmare behind. He made sure Coulson’s jacket covered her, “Jarvis, is there any way we can heat the arms and chest plate of the suit? It’s too cold for her.”

_“Sir, I don’t recommend it. It may overheat and drain your suit.”_

“I’ll risk it.” Tony gritted out, increasing the speed towards the mansion as he felt the heat in his suit increase until sweat began to earnestly pool and he had to blink away the sweat dripping into his eyes. 

“What’s her temperature now, Jarvis?” He demanded hoarsely.

 _“Increasing, sir. But you’re very close to overheating, sir—”_  

“Almost there.” He bit out. 

He made it to the mansion in record speed and landed on the roof where he was unsurprised to find a distressed Pepper waiting for him with an anxious Bruce in tow, “Tony.” Pepper covered her mouth as she watched Tony gently hand over Lewis to Bruce as his faceplate lifted and he gratefully gulped in the cool night air. 

“Will she make it, Dr Banner?” Pepper asked fearfully. 

Bruce hummed as he stared down at the woman, he couldn’t see anything other than blood. Even her hair was matted to her head and without a proper light, he didn’t want to make any promises or assumptions. He felt the familiar tingling in his muscles and the roar building at the back of his throat but he caught Tony’s eyes and forced away the rage. Not now, not with this girl in his arms, he tried reminding himself. “I’ll give her a fighting chance.” He said brushing past them. 

They followed like anxious parents, both hovering around Bruce as he barked orders at another doctor Pepper had had the insight to bring as though the doctor’s years of medical training at top notch hospitals made him nothing but an assistant. But with good grace and understanding of the severe situation, they both worked tirelessly. Even when Lewis’ heart weakened to a faint thump and almost flat lined. 

Tony didn’t bother changing out of his suit; he remained glued to the progress. “She needs surgery.” Bruce ordered over his shoulder. 

Pepper pulled herself away from Tony, forced herself to blink away the tears and straightened her shoulders, “I’ll take care of it.” She said with enough steel in her voice that Tony knew they’d get through this. 

Five minutes later, they were all loaded in the helicopter, save for Tony who deigned it more logical to fly alongside them, on their way to the hospital. Tony had turned on his communication with the rest of the team to brief them on the sudden change of locations and didn’t even argue with Nurse Thatcher when she barrelled into him and demanded he get rid of all that ‘high tech gear’ if he wanted to step into the hospital. She wouldn’t have him risking her patients or bothering them and biting back an impressive amount of snark, he complied quietly. 

So he found himself jittery and anxiously pacing a deserted hallway as Pepper sat on one of the brown chairs forcing herself to calm down but ended up tapping her toe, both of their focus glued to the operating room down the hall. 

When the others came charging down the hall at different times throughout the early morning, demanding answers and updates, Pepper clasped her hands together and quietly explained Bruce and the rest of the doctors needed quiet to concentrate on operating on Lewis—oh, sorry, _Ms Darcy,_ as Captain had so graciously demanded they call her, resulting in a quiet so thick it was almost suffocating. 

They had each taken spots along the hall: Bucky leaning against the wall, shifting uncomfortably under the bright lights, preferring the darkness, though he never once complained, Clint adjacent to Natasha and mirroring the other spy’s pose. Natasha stood close to the wall but neither leaned against it or shifted once in the two hours of waiting; her head and eyes still glued in the direction of the operating room. 

Tony paced and muttered about experiments he could be doing instead of wasting time though he never once offered to get anyone coffee and instead, became offended when one or two comments were thrown his way to leave the hallway. Steve sat on one of the chairs, leaving two empty chairs between him and Pepper, his back rigid as he too, just as Natasha, kept his focus solely down the hall. 

Coulson had sauntered in on the one hour mark, took one look at the tableau they all had made and let out a quiet sigh before he too joined the vigil, taking a seat beside Pepper. She reached down to pat his hand, her eyes flickering on habit before her hands reached their destination but froze along the way. There was dry blood under his fingernails and in the creases of his hands and she pulled her hands back, her eyes flying to his. 

He offered no comment or apology and instead had exchanged looks with the three spies and a slight nod to Tony. Pepper straightened and forced herself not to be too horrified; she knew what she was getting into when she fell in love with Tony. Blood was spilt everyday, on both sides of the lines and if it meant protecting what he deemed important, he had no qualms whatsoever. 

When the doors swung open and an exhausted Bruce sauntered to them with a weary smile, Tony finally let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t been worried. _Of course_ he hadn’t been worried. He was Tony Stark and he never worried about anything. 

So when Bruce explained why it took so long and he had heard words like _punctured_ , _internal bleeding_ , and _shattered_ being thrown around, he had to sit down. But he wasn’t worried because the way he figured, he was Tony Stark and Iron Man no less, and if Darcy Lewis decided to be melodramatic about things and die, well then…he would just go dig her up and drag her back to the living. And the trembling that shook his hands? That was nothing. Because Tony Stark never trembled.


	6. Panic Button Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Black Widow is alerted...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the previous chapter explained, this takes place in chapter eight and nine of the main fic. Thank you again, please enjoy...

**Panic Button**

**Part Two**

 

Natasha had been sipping tea when the call came. Sipping tea on her way towards Darcy’s apartment actually. She had taken her time leaving the Tower, exhaustion pulling at her bones until she all but dragged herself to a coffee shop and ordered tea with the highest caffeine legally possible to shake her awake for yet another night of watch. 

When the caffeine buzzed through her system, she blinked away the lethargy and quickened her pace. Clint had left for the Tower and though they usually waited until the other one was present before relieving their post, for some reason and this may be the sudden influx of cases coming their way, now that the Avengers were officially _a thing_ , but they were simply dead on their feet. Not only did they have cases deemed fit for an Avenger to handle but being Shield agents meant they had Shield cases to deal with as well. 

Not that they were complaining. Natasha had been through way worse to complain over something so trivial. Like hunting down a rogue in the dead of winter in Alaska wearing nothing but a nightgown, barefoot and a faulty pistol to know that pulling all-nighters back to back was liveable, if not a little unpleasant.

But lately, there was a nagging in the pit of her stomach, a feeling of something brewing beneath the surface that made her skin itch and her thoughts tumultuous. She _hated_ the unknown, found mysteries to be the bane of her existence and watching night after night for the past few weeks as Darcy worked herself to a splinter; fidgety and flighty, her paranoia was so palpable that even Natasha began to fidget. No, something was wrong. She just didn’t know what. 

It took time to peel back the layers but when Darcy began pulling her curtains down at night, blocking their vantage point, Natasha _knew_ something was wrong. So she traded a few cases with Bucky in order for her to take his nights of watching over Darcy as well. He’d been blisteringly pissed and after a few well placed quips she made about not understand why he cared so much, he gave in not wanting to divulge anything other than a few choice words directed at her. 

She knew Bucky and in all of her years of killing alongside him, she had never known the Winter Soldier to quit smoking over a nobody. She had never seen him so willing and yes, she smirked when no one was looking. But who could blame her? Bucky was doomed and no one else but her knew it. 

Natasha took another sip when her earpiece buzzed to life in her ear and for a split second, she thought it was one of those stupid drills Phil always harped on and on about. But the moment Jarvis’ polite voice said Darcy, her tea fell and splattered on the ground and she took off running. When the screaming buzzed through her ears, Natasha had done something she hadn’t done since she was eight. 

She prayed.

She prayed in all of the languages she knew to whatever gods were listening because despite her better judgement and having no business caring about someone as sweet as Darcy, she had adopted the girl as her own. And damned if she’d let someone take what was hers, she thought with a silent snarl. 

 _“Agent?”_ Tony’s grim voice broke into her calm fury. 

 _“Stark.”_ Phil stated and she recognised the deadly focus; she had learnt it from him after all. 

 _“Get a hold of Thor.”_  

She ignored the rest; forced herself to push away the screaming and the taunts in her head telling her she’d never make it in time and when her lungs burned and her legs began to protest, she quickened her pace until she saw Darcy’s apartment building in her line of sight. 

 _“ETA: two minutes.”_ Hawkeye ground out. 

“I’m here.” She broke through the chatter and launched herself at four men covered head-to-toe in black. Natasha felt a fist crush into her side and she let the blossoming pain remind her that when people cared, they were clumsy. She made sure to cut his throat extra deep for that reminder. 

“They’re mercs. I need reinforcements, they’ve got the place,” Natasha cursed and ducked a bowie knife aimed at her face, “surrounded.” 

After the first four mercenaries were taken down, Natasha ripped the flimsy glass door of the apartment building open only to have more men in black run towards her. She lost herself to the familiar sensations; the movements of killing, the blood splattering on her, the pain when she failed to block a few blows. Nothing mattered except getting to Darcy, she kept repeating this mantra in her head when another five men ran towards her. 

“Allow me.” A mechanical voice buzzed behind her and she threw herself over the railing of the staircase and covered her head when gunshots fired above her and the men she had been fighting fell like bloody raindrops around her. 

She bared her teeth at Iron Man in an attempt of a thankful smile and pulled herself back over the railing, running up the staircase, shooting when the mercs stepped into view. She was aware of Captain shielding her and slamming any mercs dumb enough to run towards them out of their way until Natasha’s world grew dim and her blood froze in her veins. 

They were just outside Darcy’s apartment when the screaming grew to a fevered pitch and Captain threw himself against the door; the shoddy aged door shattering into tiny wooden splinters around them as they came barrelling in. 

With her focus solely on the man straddling Darcy and pummelling her with his fists, Natasha growled and ripped apart any and all men standing between her and Darcy until she finally, blessedly, had torn the man attacking Darcy away from the bed. 

She hungered to feel his blood cascading down her hands but she tried reminding herself that he would suffer more alive than dead. Despite her misgivings, she knocked him cold and made sure his hands were secure before fearfully stepping towards the blood-soaked bed where Captain was trying to console Darcy. 

She reached for Darcy but ripped her hand back when Darcy trashed beneath Captain’s tender cooing and she stepped back as both Hawkeye and Soldier stepped into the ruined apartment. 

“Ms Lewis?” She tried, standing behind a crouching Captain. 

“Darcy.” Captain corrected over his shoulder before turning back to the broken woman on the bed. 

She nodded and forced herself to turn on her heels and meet Hawkeye by the bedroom door, motioning to a few crumpled figures on the ground and lifted a gloved hand indicating how many she’d left alive. Hawkeye nodded, roughly tugging the unconscious men from the ground though his eyes remained glued to Captain holding Darcy in his arms. 

She wanted to rip Darcy away and hold her, hum lullabies Phil had taught her when the nightmares became too much, tell her stories of bright eyed girls with red lips taking the world hostage. But she felt inept at that moment. She wasn’t soft or gentle like the Captain, she wasn’t anything but a killer. Killers shouldn’t be around anything but rot and dust. So she took a hesitant step back and watched distantly though she hated herself for doing so. 

Darcy’s head lolled around Captain’s bicep and Natasha held her gaze. Despite the blood, she was alive. “Natalie?” A small voice quavered. 

She swallowed about to step further away as they descended the stairs when Captain glanced up at her, deciding something beneath his masked face and whispered to Darcy, “Black Widow.” 

Maybe it was because she usually shared cases with the Captain, or maybe it was his quiet presence that soothed her but in that moment, she felt like someone actually understood her misgivings about being around Darcy and she was both annoyed and grateful all the same. 

Following beside Captain, Natasha let the conversation flicker around her, filing the important details for later; her attention focused solely on Darcy in Steve’s arms. They stepped from the apartment building and Iron Man descended before them, Coulson soon joining them. He made a move towards them, and Natasha shifted slightly, her hand brushing Captain’s back just as she felt Hawkeye shift behind her. 

Coulson caught her gaze and within his slate cool eyes she read vengeance and loosened her stance, nodding slightly to him. “Find them and bring them to me. Soldier is waiting.” He ordered. 

She let her eyes briefly flicker to Darcy’s swelling face before stepping away and bleeding into the shadowed night with the other two spies trailing around her. She shifted her focus away from the girl in Captain’s arms, from the burning rage and the venomous fury and let the coldness seep into her limbs as she folded herself up the railing and checked the vitals of the few men they hadn’t ripped apart. 

She lost herself to the mechanisms of transporting the men to the waiting black vans, “They’ll keep until we’re ready.” Hawkeye said stepping beside her as she stood on the stained sidewalk staring at the van until it disappeared from sight. Both assassins ignored the lone Shield agent power-washing the sidewalk to remove any and all traces of a bloody fight, not that the neighbourhood would care, Natasha thought grimly. 

 _“Widow.”_ Captain’s voice said in her earpiece. 

She turned her head to tune out Hawkeye and Soldier’s quiet conversation. Not bothering to say anything, though she doubted with her clenched jaw, not a sound would slip past her lips, _“She’ll need clothes for when she wakes.”_ He said gently. 

Natasha blinked, shaking off the coldness threatening to drown her and stepped away from the edge of the sidewalk, “I’ll bring everything.” She said hoarsely, turning off her earpiece before she would do something embarrassing such as clearing her throat or worse, ask how Darcy was faring. 

Soldier made a move to join her but she shook her head, “She won’t want a man pawing through her things. Not after tonight.” She said briskly over her shoulder, jogging up the stairs to Darcy’s apartment and turned her earpiece back on when she was sure she was composed enough. 

A few Shield agents, fresh from graduation were slow to get out of her way and she reached for their necks, slamming their foreheads together as she passed by. Before she could raise a brow and inquire about a duffel bag, four of them were shoved towards her and she rolled her eyes but reached for them. When she moved around the apartment, all of the agents were sure to steer clear from her and if it weren’t for the current circumstances, that would have pleased Natasha. 

 _“She needs surgery, she’s being transported to…”_  

Natasha zipped up the two duffels and ignored the urge to frown, leaving the ruined apartment behind; Darcy’s entire life only filled two small duffels? No, she would make sure to change this, her Darcy deserved better. She lifted the duffels and left the destroyed apartment behind her, “I’m on my way.” She said through the Avenger’s frequency. 

 _“Widow, please leave the duffels with Happy when you get here; he’ll take them to the mansion.”_ Pepper said. 

Soldier reached for a duffel but gave up when her eyes flashed to his; she tightened her hold on the bags and stepped into the Shield sanctioned helicopter waiting on the dusk covered street. 

 

00000000000000

 

Natasha would never tell anyone this, not even Clint and sure as hell not Phil. No, days, even months and years later, she’d refuse to even acknowledge that the moment she stepped from the helicopter into the hospital had been nothing but a huge blur. It wouldn’t do if the others, especially Phil, had found out that she’d lost herself to the worry and rage until she stepped onto the tenth floor of the hospital and saw the rest of the Avengers and Pepper lounging around a deserted, blindingly bright hallway.

It wasn’t until she felt her fingers ache that she realised she must have relinquished the duffels to Happy because she was clenching her fisted hands so hard that her fingers were aching. But the pain was a cleanser and she accepted the ache knowing she was alive. 

Natasha’s eyes flickered to a worried Pepper who nodded briefly before she turned back to watch Tony pace. The billionaire kept muttering to himself about watches and time but she didn’t stick around long enough to hear more. With Clint at her heels, she decided sitting down when Darcy was being cut open in the operating room, especially with the guilt gnawing at her bones, would seem obscene. She deserved to stand, it was her penance after all.

So she settled herself near the wall, every fibre of her being pulled taut as she stared at the operating room. And hours later, when Bruce exhaustedly stepped from the operating room, well, she was one of the first to intercept him, impatiently tapping her toe. 

The rest of the early morning was inconsequential, even when she went shopping with Steve for Darcy after they’d been shooed from loitering around the hallway, because the only important thing in her mind was that Darcy was very much alive and that suited her just fine. 


	7. Panic Button Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Steve and Clint react to the panic button...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second last chapter on the attack (are any of you tired of them yet?), as noted previously, this is connected to chapter 8 and nine in the main fic. Thank you and please enjoy...

**Panic Button**

**Part Three**

 

Clint yawned and rubbed the back of his neck, he was exhausted. Wrung dry. Dead on his feet. Whatever the hell weird sayings Coulson always said, he was it. There were so many times as he sat on the ledge of an opposite building and kept a vigil on Darcy throughout his shift that he wanted to climb down, knock on her door and demand she come live with him. 

Oh, Stark would just _love_ that. He already harped on and on about him nesting but if he actually showed up with Darcy in tow...no, Stark would never let him hear the end of it. He was already designing an actual human size nest for Clint on the roof of the Avengers Tower but thankfully, the three most level headed people he knew, Pepper, Natasha and Phil, had _kindly explained_ to Stark why he shouldn’t. But that didn’t mean he stopped taunting Clint about the design blueprints. No, those were still shoved under his nose all the time and he had a niggling feeling that one day Stark was going to frame the damn thing. 

If Darcy lived with him, well, things would get so much simpler. He would be able to sleep at night knowing she was safe, he wouldn’t have to tail her all the time and she would always be where he’d put her! For the past two weeks, Clint had spent the entirety of his shifts coming up with more and more reasons why she should just live with him. They could have movie nights, eating contests, prank Phil together, hide from Natasha, he could even teach her archery! All of these sounded amazing and he wanted Darcy to be a part of it. But she would never agree. 

Pepper had explained it to him when she’d caught him mumbling about it to himself over Froot Loops one morning. She had explained that a woman would never willingly move in with a man if they were going to do stupid fraternity stuff. He hadn’t even been aware Pepper had padded into the kitchen on bare feet! If Phil found out, he’d be decommissioned. 

Darcy Lewis, a girl with wide sad eyes had completely and irrevocably compromised him. She was the little sister he always wanted and though he had no control over his shitty past, he could control the present and he wanted to make Darcy as happy and safe as possible. 

So, instead of banging on her door at two in the morning, Clint left dejected and grumbled the entire way back to the Tower. He grunted at Bruce as he passed him out of the elevator and slammed and banged his way into the communal kitchen to make himself a sandwich. He wasn’t hungry but the prospect of returning to his empty, and desolate apartment with screaming silence mocking him filled him with dread so he went for the alternative. 

“You okay, Clint?” 

He glanced over his shoulder at a frowning and worried Steve sitting at the table and shrugged, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Steve shook his head ruefully and nursed a chamomile tea Bruce had made him before sequestering himself back in his lab, “Dr Banner swears by this stuff.” He motioned to the tea he cradled in between his hands. Since being forced to spend half of his time at the Tower, he hadn’t slept all that much. 

Sure, he lied and said he would be happy to move in, but that was more for Bucky’s sake to acclimatise him than for his own. No, there was something about the loud, buzzing city that wouldn’t let him close his eyes at night. He was restless but even more unhappy. How could he say he was happy when he felt so lost? He wouldn’t bring up the ‘lost in time’ card, as Tony so aptly put it, but how else could he explain why he feel so disoriented like something was missing? Maybe because _he_ was missing. 

Clint snorted and slammed the door of the metal fridge shut, ignoring Steve’s quiet wince, “You want a peanut butter and pickle sandwich?” 

Steve coughed smothering a laugh, “We have jam and jelly, Clint.”   
  
He shook his head, “It’s a culinary adventure, Steve.” He retorted. 

“Not sure that’s an adventure I’d like to go on.” Steve commented. 

Clint, despite trying to hold onto his frustrated defeat and loneliness, smirked and took a seat opposite Steve, “You’re missing out.”   
  
Steve shrugged and hid his smirk behind the lip of his mug as he sipped. He didn’t say anything but kept his eyes glued to Clint’s face when the archer took a very large bite of the sandwich and proceeded to fight back an even larger grimace, “That any good?” 

Clint forced himself to swallow and choked back a gag, “Using spicy pickles and chunky peanut butter is delightful on the tongue.” 

This time Steve did laugh, soon joined by a reluctant Clint, “I still stand by this sandwich.”   
  
Steve nodded, “Not a word to the others, I promise.”   
  
Clint glanced up at Steve and nodded once before taking another bite, somehow forgetting just how awful it was and what a feat it had been to swallow down his terrible invention, “Damn.”   
  
Steve chuckled.

A loud bell sounded from the ceiling and both men froze, _“Ms Lewis has activated the panic button. Mr Stark wishes for you all to ‘suit up’. The helicopter is awaiting your arrival. I repeat...”_

Their eyes flew to each other and they shoved away from the table, Steve’s chair sliding across the kitchen floor and hitting the wall with a deafening bang as they both ran to the roof, ripping their street clothes off and jumping into the Avengers’ uniform in record speed. 

Steve’s heart pounded in his chest and when he ripped his shield from its home in a secret cabinet near the top floor of the Tower Tony had built for them all to store their gear, he clenched his jaw. 

He didn’t know much about Ms Lewis but from what he knew and the change she brought to the others in his team, he liked her just fine. With a sweet smile and dancing eyes, he wasn’t surprised the others in the team were fiercely possessive of her. He had planned on meeting her one day, maybe tagging along to one of their dinners Thor always went on and on about; he wanted to meet her when she was at her best, safest, but not like this. Never like this. 

Hawkeye ran along side him as they ran to the helicopter and Steve nodded tensely when he saw Soldier already waiting and shouting for them to hurry their asses up. It was when the helicopter lifted into the cloudy stygian air when the screaming began in their earpieces. 

Steve swallowed, compartmentalising the worry and rage but held onto the steel determination that they were going to save Darcy Lewis. Because if he focused on the pleading and the sounds of her being beaten, he’d lose his concentration and a soldier never lost their footing. 

Clint closed his eyes briefly before opening them when Darcy began to cry out louder in his ear. Her screams reverberated in his mind and he forced himself to listen, to remember that her being hurt was his fault. He failed to protect those he loved in the past, just as he failed to protect them now. 

Jarvis had muted the screaming and Clint would have sold what was left of his soul for Darcy’s attack to cease just as abruptly. But he knew hope didn’t exist for people like him. 

_“Agent?”_ Iron Man demanded in the silent lull. 

_“Stark.”_ Phil stated calmly though his voice was much deeper than usual. 

_“Get a hold of Thor.”_

Thor. What would Thor do when he found out that Darcy had gotten hurt on their watch? Clint gritted his teeth and gripped his bow tighter to his chest; Thor hadn’t wanted to leave but all of them had promised Darcy’s good health and only then had he left for Australia. And now Darcy was in trouble. 

Captain caught Clint’s eyes and nodded, “We’re on our way.” He said to Hawkeye, hoping to calm down the archer.

Clint glanced out the window and stood up, reaching for a wire attached to one of the sides of the helicopter and clipped it to his belt, “ETA: two minutes.” It was too late for what ifs and should haves so instead, Clint shook off the worry and ripped open the helicopter door, leaning out impatiently. The wind bit into him, but he didn’t shiver. He barely even breathed, his eyes focused on the faint target before him. 

_“I’m here.”_ Widow’s breathy voice interrupted before their communication frequency was filled with Russian curses and men’s pain laced cries were drowned out by gunfire. _“They’re mercs. I need reinforcements; they’ve got the place,”_ more Russian curses filled the air, _“surrounded.”_  

“Fuck.” Soldier cursed, “Can this thing go any faster?” 

“We’re almost there.” Clint bit out and fingered the tip of an arrow in anticipation. 

Captain nodded to Soldier and stood, going to the opposite side of the helicopter and ripping the door open as he too loomed in the gaping exit-way as Soldier stepped beside him and latched a wire to his belt. 

_“Thor’s been notified and is on his way.”_ Coulson’s calm voice, though slightly hoarse broke through. 

Steve watched as Iron Man whizzed past them and landed on the sidewalk as fire fight sparked into the night. He braced himself and jumped out of the helicopter, Soldier and Clint beside him.   

Fighting was a graceful dance, one he not only was good at but the singular reason he was brought back to life for. He didn’t kill any men even though he wanted to, he flicked them out of his way with his shield with the confident knowledge that both Soldier and Hawkeye would take care of them. 

He saw a flash of red before running after Widow as she leapt over the railing and up the staircase. She sidled closer to the wall to allow room for his shield and when they neared the doorway guarded by mercs which she promptly took down, she allowed him to go before her. He slammed his shielded body against the door unaware it was _that_ flimsy and broke his fall by a few unsuspecting mercs. 

Steve left the rest of them for Widow, his only concern now the man straddling Darcy with his fists pummelling her. About to reach for the man’s neck, Widow streaked past him and ripped the man from Darcy’s body.

His eyes flickered over the bloodied bed and he lowered his shield and reached with trembling gloved hands and gently touched her shoulder. She trashed and cried out and for a split second he wondered if he should let Widow calm Darcy down but then he remembered his mom and the times he used to take care of her and steeled himself to gently graze her shoulder again, “Ms Lewis?” He asked softly. 

When she still trashed, her blood splattering his chin, he tried yet again, worried she was going to hurt herself even more, “Ms Lewis.” He said more forcefully. 

“Darcy.” Her small voice croaked. 

He swallowed down the sudden lump in his throat, “Darcy, you’re okay now but we need to get you to a hospital, okay?” 

Steve watched her owl eyes blink and settle on him. He smiled tenderly at her, gently stroking her blood soaked hair from her forehead, “Captain?” She asked trying to push herself away from the bed but settled for outstretching her arms and reaching for him. 

“At your service, Darcy.” He smiled worriedly when her eyes began to dull. 

“Ms Lewis—” Natasha began from behind him and Steve watched as Darcy swallowed nervously and pulled her hands away from him. 

“Darcy.” He corrected over his shoulder before crouching down beside the bed and smiling gently at her, “I’m going to touch you, okay Darcy? Can you stay strong for me?” 

He waited for her consenting nod before he gently lifted her into his arms; one of the most fragile things he’s ever held. She rested her head under his chin and began to cry as he murmured to her. He murmured lullabies, called her sweet things he’d never dare unless she was his sweetheart but he didn’t care. 

Hawkeye, with Soldier at his heels had run in just as Captain lifted a shivering and crying Darcy in his arms and he swallowed nervously and took a step towards them when Widow stepped in front, stopping him. She motioned to a few of the fallen mercs and he nodded reaching into his back pocket for zipties. 

He threw a few to Soldier and they moved mechanically, assessing the dead from the unconscious until they made a neat pile of unconscious men for them to carry off after Darcy was taken care of. 

There wasn’t much Clint could do, not when both Captain and Widow had Darcy, so he and Soldier settled for hovering as they all descended the stairs. When blood seeped from Darcy’s mouth, he felt a rough tap on his arm and a tissue shoved in his face and he nodded his thanks to Soldier before tapping Widow on the shoulder. She accepted it with a small nod and handed it to Captain who quietly thanked her. 

Steve gently dabbed some of the blood from her mouth though he knew it barely helped. When more blood sputtered from her lips, he grew agitated with worry and it wasn’t until she gasped painfully that he realised his arms had tightened around her by their own volition and he forced himself to loosen his arms. 

“Natalie?” Her voice quivered when she caught sight of Widow beside Captain. 

Widow shook her head and grazed his back with her hand and he understood. He knew Black Widow since most of his cases were handled by her. They fought alongside each other well and sometimes, if she was feeling generous, she spent her free time with him. She was calm and he liked that. He needed calm in this damn cement jungle. “Black Widow.” He corrected quietly. 

When Clint had heard her torn voice hesitantly ask for a Natalie, a pseudonym that Widow always fell back on, he had to force himself not to turn on his heels, march up the stairs and tear the unconscious men to bits. 

As soon as they stepped from the apartment building, Iron Man landed before them and cursed, “Holy shit.” His mechanical voice breathed before he called for Agent Coulson over his shoulder. 

Two black vans pulled up behind Agent Coulson and Iron Man on the road and Steve held Darcy higher in his arms unwilling to let the Shield agents near her. He felt Darcy’s bloodied grip tighten on his shoulders before he felt her go limp and he clenched his jaw when Iron Man made a move to grab her from his arms. He felt Widow shift beside him and he knew she wouldn’t let anyone near Darcy either. Not even Agent Coulson. 

“Find them and bring them to me.” Agent Coulson ordered to Clint, his voice rough but radiating quiet rage. Clint glanced once more at Darcy in Captain’s arms before shifting away, his eyes searching out the black shadow of the Winter Soldier. He heard a shuffle behind him and knew Widow had made the noise on purpose as she joined him.   

“She needs a doctor.” Steve demanded scowling at both Agent Coulson and Iron Man. 

The Agent shrugged out of his jacket and slowly stepped towards Captain and it was only when the wary Captain nodded once did he lay the jacket gently over Darcy. “Banner is already waiting.” He explained softly. 

Steve refused to relinquish his hold on her, not when her limp arms were wrapped around his neck; not after the hell he saw her survive. She was safe with him. “She’ll be at the mansion in a private room. Captain, I’ll take her.” Iron Man slowly edged closer, raising his hands up to show Steve he meant no harm. 

About to shift away from Iron Man, a soft voice quieted his urge to fight them all, “Captain.” Agent Coulson said. 

He turned wounded eyes to Darcy laying prone in his arms, “It’ll be faster.” Tony hesitantly added as he edged closer, “We’ll meet you there, okay Captain? But Agent needs help with cleaning up.” 

Steve’s eyes flickered between the two before nodding once and slowly lowered her into Iron Man’s mechanical arms, fighting his inner turmoil. He stared at Darcy but forced himself to nod, “I’ll get Black Widow to pack her clothes.” He said roughly over the lump in his throat. 

He didn’t move, his eyes glued to Iron Man as he watched his fellow teammate push away from the sidewalk and into the black abyss of the night sky. He stood there until Agent Coulson cleared his throat, “Captain?” 

“Yes?” He asked, his eyes still glued to the sky. 

“The clothes.” Coulson gently reminded him. 

He nodded and left, barking out orders to any and all Shield Agents unfortunate enough to be lurking around him. He was brisk and rude, an unusual sight but he had other things to do. He had to get to the hospital. “Widow.” He said as he motioned for a few agents to move away as he hauled a few dead mercs and threw them on waiting stretchers. 

Remembering Black Widow had been there when they’d found Darcy and how close she felt to the other woman, though she constantly denied it, Steve swallowed and said gently, knowing he wasn’t the only one worried, “She’ll need clothes for when she wakes.” 

There was a pause before Widow’s husky voice replied, _“I’ll bring everything.”_  

He nodded to himself and finished hauling the last four dead men and left searching for Agent Coulson in the melee, “I’m going to the hospital to wait.” He said briskly.

Coulson nodded, his eyes flickering around, “Simmons.” He called. 

Steve tensed as a senior Shield agent jogged over to them, “Sir?” 

“I’m leaving this in your capable hands.” Coulson said over his shoulder as both men began to walk towards a black SUV. 

“A report will be on your desk at oh-six hundred.” Agent Simmons called.

Coulson nodded, “Make it five.” He said over his shoulder.

Steve’s eyes flickered to Agent Simmons, but held his tongue. It was only two hours away; he knew Agent Coulson was a hard boss and if the circumstances were different, he would have said something. But Darcy was in the hospital and the last thing on his mind was sticking up for a Shield agent.   

As the SUV peeled away from the sidewalk, Coulson reached for a button by the radio and flicked on the siren. Steve forced himself not to fidget in the passenger seat, not to do anything other than clutch his shield in his hand and wait. 

“She’ll make it through.” Coulson’s quiet voice broke through the siren’s, his eyes glued to the road. Steve had to hope that Darcy would because he refused to even accept there was an alternative, “Ms Lewis—” 

“Darcy or Ms Darcy.” Steve corrected with steel in his voice. 

He felt Coulson’s eyes on him but he stared ahead, “Ms Darcy is resilient. She survived many things.” He said placidly. 

Steve clenched his jaw, “She never went head to head with mercenaries. She should’ve never had to in the first place.”   
  
Coulson nodded thoughtfully, “We’ll find the reason, I can promise you that Captain.”   
  
Appeased, Steve nodded once as Coulson pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Coulson must have been more worried than he let on because not once did he try and stop Steve from running into the lobby of the hospital and jog up the twelve flights of stairs, in his uniform. 

Usually Coulson had a pretty strict rule on what the Avengers could and couldn’t do when in uniform but this time, Coulson matched his pace not even breaking a sweat or gasping for air when they finally reached the landing of the private floor where Darcy was located.   

He nodded politely to Pepper and lowered himself rather uncomfortably in the farthest chair away from her and leaned his shield against the wall beside him. He felt Natasha shift slightly on her feet as she stood beside him and he knew it was her way of acknowledging his presence. He didn’t sit back but sat straight only moving once to tug down his hood; his eyes glued to the door Pepper had quietly motioned to briefly when Coulson had asked if they heard Darcy’s progress. 

Steve was good at the waiting game, not as good as the three assassins but he was used to the world moving hurriedly around him. He was tense and his muscles were taut with the need to do something for Darcy, _anything_ other than what he was doing now. If anything happened to her—no, he had to think positively. He promised himself that when Darcy made it through this ordeal, he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she would be safe. 

Clint strolled onto the deserted hallway where the Avengers, their handler and Pepper all loitered. He caught Natasha’s eyes and silently demand progress on Darcy’s surgery, clenching his hands worriedly when she blinked twice; they still hadn’t heard anything from the operating room. 

He leaned against the wall adjacent to Natasha and stared at the wall above her head as he let himself go to the hands of time. It’s what made him a damn good spy, being able to remain still for long periods of time.

The silence that befell the hallway would sporadically be broken by Tony’s mutterings or his feet shuffling on the white linoleum floor. A few hours later, the operating room down the hall opened and Bruce bustled out to greet them, calmly explaining Darcy’s condition. 

There still was a chance for her health to deteriorate but he knew the worst was over and for the first time since he heard Jarvis tell him she had activated her panic button, he felt the worry in his gut loosen and he began to breathe again. 

When Steve heard Bruce answer all of the harried questions Tony kept hurling at forward, he tensed about to demand Tony back off from the doctor. But then he’d seen the worried looks Pepper kept shooting the billionaire and the tightness around Tony’s lips and then he knew. He wasn’t the only one drowning in worry and this was Tony’s way of dealing. 

So he let Bruce handle Tony, he was good at that anyway and he shifted towards Natasha, “She’ll make it.” He said quietly, they both needed reassurance though he was the only one to admit it. 

Her eyes flickered to his before they went back to the operating room’s closed doors again and they both stood still watching and waiting for any signs of Darcy to be wheeled to her private room, “She only has two duffels.” Natasha murmured. 

Steve frowned, “We’ll get her more.” He had grown up in destitute, most of the Avengers had, and though he preferred to live frugally, despite the large amount Shield kept sliding in his bank account he never checked, he’d spend it all on Darcy if it would make her smile again. 

“She’ll want your colours.” Natasha stated. 

And even in hell, Natasha could elicit a small smile from him before it fell away, “And yours too.” 

He felt her nod before she shifted away and was left alone again to wait for Darcy’s appearance. They had all meant to remain in the hall awaiting to peek a glance at Darcy but Bruce refused and after quietly explaining to Pepper about her weak health, she too had begun to shoo them out. “Wait at the mansion, go get changed, find something to eat—Dr. Banner will let us know when she’s settled into her room.”   
  
Tony shook his head, “She’s not staying here.” He retorted automatically. 

Clint nodded, “We’re taking her back to the Tower—” 

Natasha shook her head, “Too many eyes. The mansion.” She said quietly.

Bucky nodded, “I’m not letting people I don’t know around her.” He said to Bruce. 

Steve glanced from Bruce to Coulson, “It’ll be safer and easier.”   
  
If he weren’t so exhausted, it being such a long time he’d operated on someone, and worried over Darcy’s health, Bruce would have smirked, “The mansion but not until we can get her condition to stabilise.” 

“How long is that?” Tony demanded pulling out his Starkpad. 

“No later than tomorrow morning.” 

Tony nodded and began furiously clicking away on his Starkpad, wandering away from them, “Captain?” He called over his shoulder. 

Steve jogged to join Tony, “Yes?”

“Leave the room to me. We’ll need furnishings and everything to make her comfortable.” Tony muttered his eyes flying on the blueprint he was actively designing. 

Steve nodded and left Tony as the other man began muttering and wandering down the halls, “I’m going to make sure he doesn’t get taken to the top floor.” Pepper excused. 

“Top floor?” Steve asked. 

Coulson cleared his throat, “Psychiatric ward.” 

Clint smirked, “What do we need, Captain?” He asked crossing his arms over his chest. 

The rest of the Avengers and Coulson stood before him at the ready and he nodded, “Doctor, you’ll take care of the medical?”   
  
Bruce nodded, “I’ll make sure the mansion is well-stocked.” 

“I’m going to head over there now.” Coulson stated. 

Steve turned to the three assassins as the other two left the hallway quietly, “Hawkeye, she’ll need entertainment. Soldier, make sure Iron Man doesn’t build a waterbed, trapeze or try to bring any circus animals in.” 

Clint scoffed, “I don’t know why Pepper chose a circus movie for movie night.” 

Bucky nodded to Steve, “I’m on it.” He said and turned on his heels with a feral smirk. 

Widow waited until Clint disappeared from the hall before she shifted to Steve, “And?” 

He pulled up his hood, “We’re going to make sure she can never fit her things into two duffels ever again.” 


	8. Panic Button Part Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Phil are notified...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it (finally!). The last of the Panic series. This one is much shorter in comparison and I blame my exhaustion at writing the same scene over and over (though I hope it doesn't disappoint). As mentioned before, this takes place during chapter eight and nine in the main fic. Please enjoy...

**Panic Button**

**Part Four**

Bucky slammed his metal fist into the punching bag and grinned maliciously when the black leather tore beneath his steel arm. He’d just gotten back to the Tower after briefing Coulson on his finished mission and decided he was still too wired to do anything logical like shower or sleep. Instead, he lined up all of the black leather punching bags, eighteen in total and began taking out his frustrations on them until they shredded under his fists. 

He wanted a beer, or twelve, a carton of cigarettes and to shake some sense into Darcy. And spar with Natasha, who thought it was a good idea to alleviate his shifts of keeping tabs on Darcy since he was deemed too ‘angry’. But he was only angry because of Natasha trying to cut down his shifts. And because of Darcy. Oh, he was so _very_ angry at that stupid girl. 

He growled and lifted another punching bag to chain to the ceiling of one of the many gyms in the Tower, “Idiot woman.” He muttered slamming his fists into the punching bag again. 

How dare she smile and befriend him? She even went so far as to give him half of her stupid lunch _and_ her water bottle when she had nothing but a few crackers. Then he thought of the four page instructions she’d written for Clint and got riled up all over again. Why was she so nice? 

He couldn’t sleep, not when he kept remembering her honeysuckle and apricot scent, or the way she had grinned crookedly at him. Ugh, he was a fucking mess and it was all because of a slight girl who thought it was okay to befriend strangers. Didn’t she know better? 

People moved out of the way when he walked, he incited fear in them, and yet, she acted as though he was a regular, normal person. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him normally, he didn’t even remember what it felt like to _be_ normal and yet, when she had sat down beside him, he had. 

Then she had dared to reach over and rip the cigarette from his mouth and lecture _him_ on the dangers of smoking. He smirked to himself, he would have killed anyone else for daring such a thing but not her. Not with Darcy. 

So when he came back to the Tower pissed off and was confronted by Natasha and later Steve, his rage had threatened to boil over. And when he had reached for a cigarette to take the edge off, he remembered Darcy’s lecture and the worry in her sweet eyes and got pissed off all over again. 

Coulson had made sure to give him the roughest cases, something he was grateful for, and had steered clear of everyone, especially Stark. One look from Stark and the other man would begin to taunt him about how _‘sweet it was to quit smoking for a girl’_ and if he killed Stark…well, he’d lose a pay check and he was very partial to them. Even if he never touched his bank account. 

A loud bell sounded from the ceiling and Bucky froze, _“Ms Lewis has activated the panic button. Mr Stark wishes for you all to ‘suit up’. The helicopter is awaiting your arrival. I repeat...”_

Bucky would have cut his own tongue out before telling anyone that he’d tripped over the pile of shredded punching bags as he threw himself out of the door. He didn’t have to suit up other than reach for his mask and a new black vest in the hidden compartment Stark had built on his way out of the Tower to where the helicopter was waiting. 

He was thankful he was the first one on the helicopter because as he buckled his vest on and slipped the black mask over his mouth and nose, his hands trembled.

 

 

0000000000000000

 

“Sir, if you read the report—” Phi tried once more forcing back yet another yawn. 

There was no need for the briefing, it was already in the early hours of the morning and he was exhausted having just come back from a mission with the Winter Soldier. But he knew the man sitting opposite him didn’t care and he’d be killed before he ever gave light to the real reason he was stuck in his boss-turned-reluctant-friend’s office. Nick Fury, Director of Shield, was lonely. 

Fury glared at Phil across his desk, “And I will after, damn it. Now tell me more about Australia.” 

“Thor’s assignment was deemed—” He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and he apologised before reaching for it. 

“Should I be offended you’re checking your phone in a briefing?” Fury asked wryly. 

He unlocked his personal cellphone and froze. He forced himself to slowly lower the phone and calm his beating heart, “Sir, if you excuse me, Mr Stark wishes for an impromptu meeting.” 

Nick studied him about to stop him before he nodded tersely seeing something in Phil’s eyes, “Go.” 

Phil nodded once and left the Director’s office, closing the door quietly before him. He made sure to leave the floor before he broke out into a sprint, and dialled Stark’s phone, _“Agent.”_

 “Stark.” Coulson forced the calm in his voice as he pulled out his Shield sanctioned phone and began to dial Thor’s handler in Australia. 

_“Get a hold of Thor.”_ Stark’s rough voice demanded. 

“Already on it.” He said smoothly before ending the call and lifting the other phone to his ear. 

_“Lepton.”_  

“Thor. Now.” Coulson demanded jogging past a few shocked and gaping Shield agents unfortunate enough to be working in the early hours. Even if Shield Headquarters’ were packed and brimming with agents, none of them would believe their own eyes seeing an agitated Agent Coulson running past them. 

_“Son of Coul.”_ Thor’s deep voice rumbled, _“Are you in need of me?”_  

Hours later, he would regret losing his control but the knowledge that Darcy Lewis was in danger had his heart hammering and for the first time since being a green agent, he’d almost faltered, “It’s Darcy. She hit the panic button. You need to come—” 

An infuriated bellow and the roar of thunder cut Phil off, _“Thor’s leaving!”_ Agent Lepton’s harassed voice said through the mêlée.   

“Agents Richards and Clark will take over. He’s needed over here.” Coulson hung up before barking orders over his shoulder to a few agents bold enough to chase after him, “I need two clean up vans…”

 

00000000000000

 

Bucky ripped a wire from the side of the helicopter and clipped it to his belt before stepping beside Captain as the cold night air rushed past them. He was focused now; his hands had stopped trembling when the silence took over. It’s what had made him a damn good spy but an even better killer. The silence snuffed out everything other than his mission, it was the same with Widow, though she called her focus ‘the cold’. Whatever it was, it sharpened his mind and senses until his muscles were taut with anticipation. 

When Darcy’s screaming had filled his earpiece, he had been the only one that hadn’t flinched. Instead, he had smirked savagely at the knowledge that he would render ever person that hurt Darcy into bloodied pieces. He hungered for their blood, for their screams to replace Darcy’s echoing screams that would no doubt haunt him. 

Iron Man flew past them and when Captain jumped from the helicopter, he threw himself beside him, his eyes flickering over the mercs he would take down. He would make sure not to kill them all; he was looking forward to interrogating them. 

When Bucky landed and saw Captain and Widow sprinting past them up the stairs, he had wanted to shove them both out of the way and get to Darcy first. But he didn’t. He was a killer, not a lover. People like him didn’t care for anyone, they weren’t gentle. He was good at watching and taking lives; Darcy would need sweet and gentle touches. He’d leave it to his teammates. So he forced himself to turn away and shoved his knife in the heart of one of the mercs instead. 

He heard Captain whispering to Darcy through his earpiece and did a slow walk-about the apartment building making sure they had gotten all of the mercenaries. He ascended the stairs and met Hawkeye on the landing, pulling zipties from his pocket. 

When he was sure Captain had taken care of Darcy with Widow hovering nearby, he and Hawkeye tightened the zipties around the few unconscious mercenaries. Captain and Widow with Darcy in tow passed them and even Hawkeye had trailed hot on their heels but still, Bucky held back in the shadows. 

He glanced at Darcy cradled in Captain’s arms, and he began to finger the sheathed blades at his side. He was really regretting dispelling of the mercs so quickly, not when he was still hungry for their blood. But he had to forcefully remind himself there would be an interrogation later and he’d bide his time until then. 

Darcy whispered to Captain, blood seeping from her cracked lips and without thinking, he ripped open one of his pockets on the side of his black pants open, tugged out a tissue and after roughly tapping Hawkeye on the shoulder, shoved the tissue in the archer’s face. He grunted when Hawkeye thanked him; if Darcy hadn’t gotten herself into trouble, she wouldn’t even need the tissue. 

_Damn it_ , he was angry all over again. 

As the group stepped onto the sidewalk outside of the apartment building, Iron Man descended onto the sidewalk before them and called for Coulson over his shoulder. Phil swallowed as he stepped closer to Darcy in Captain’s arms. He wanted to reach forward and hold her, after shaking some sense into her of course…and maybe throw in a few lectures too. But he didn’t. He was Agent Coulson of Shield and if he lost his cool? Well, that would not do. He caught Soldier’s gaze and nodded once before turning back to Iron Man and Captain. 

Bucky stepped away knowing it was the right thing to do; he had no claims on Darcy and even if he did, he wouldn’t be good for her. She needed sunshine, not darkness. So he left to go pick up the pieces of what he did best and when his gloves soaked through with the blood of the felled, he ignored it. He was where he belonged after all. 


	9. The Lecture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha lectures a few of the Avengers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot takes place after chapter fourteen of the main fic. Thank you, please enjoy...

 

**The Lecture**

  

Natasha firmly closed Darcy’s door behind her and waited for a few minutes hearing Darcy speak with Jarvis. Since she was alone, she allowed herself to smile when she heard Darcy arguing with the AI. With a shake of her head, her smile fell as she remembered the dark circles under Darcy’s eyes, the yawns she kept trying to hide and the isolation in her big eyes.   
“Jarvis, where are the others?” She asked suddenly wishing Clint and Bucky were back from their mission so she could take her anger out on them during their sparring sessions. 

_“Thor, Winter Soldier and Hawkeye are due tomorrow. Captain Rogers is with Dr Banner in his lab. Mr Stark has requested no visitors as he is busy in his lab.”_ Jarvis kindly explained. 

She let out a string of expletives and stalked determinedly to the labs, punching the elevator button with enough force that if Tony hadn’t reinforced everything in the mansion, it would have shattered under the force.

Once the elevator doors slid open on the floor solely dedicated to the laboratories, Natasha ignored the sounds of rock music blaring from Tony’s lab, steel doors shut against any curious eyes, and strolled to one of the other labs. Faint chuckles and murmurs emanated from the open doors. 

She stepped into the lab without knocking, her eyes flickering around before settling on Steve sitting opposite Bruce at a metal table, both of them nursing mugs of what smelt like herbal tea. 

Steve was in mid-sentence when he noticed Natasha standing there with her arms crossed and frowning at both of them. He heard Bruce swallow audibly when she continued to scowl, “Yes?” Bruce asked hesitantly. 

“You will go and visit Darcy.” She ordered. She felt Tony’s presence at her back for a brief second before she felt him leave the lab.  

Tony had hurriedly left his lab in an excited rush wanting to brag to Bruce about _finally_ finding a way his suit can emit heat without overheating...just in case another emergency came up and he had to carry someone through the cold night air again...it was all about being prepared. He wasn’t doing this for Darcy, regardless of what others would think. 

_Bruce will enjoy it_ , he mused stepping into the lab and freezing in horror. He caught Bruce’s wide eyes and found Natasha staring at the two men demanding they visit Darcy with her back to him. He shook his head, horrified that he’d somehow unwittingly stepped into one of her lectures and slowly, not to gain her attention, left the lab. Bruce could wait. 

Steve’s eyes fell to the mug between his large hands as Bruce began to fidget, “Enough of this avoidance.” She reiterated before turning on her heels and leaving. 

On her way to her floor, the elevator door opened and Phil stepped in, pressing the number four; the common room, before nodding to her, “Agent.” 

She nodded, “Agent Coulson.” 

“How’s Ms Darcy this evening?” He asked after a lull of silence had fallen between them. 

Natasha shifted on her feet, “I will be teaching her self-defence when she is well.” 

He nodded, “Good.” 

They stared ahead at the elevator doors and she bid her time wanting to mention to him, her boss, confidante and yes, friend, to visit Darcy, “She still has nightmares.”   
  
“I am aware.” He said smoothly. 

“She hasn’t been sleeping.” Natasha added. 

“I have been informed.” 

She scowled at the doors, “She’s lonely.” 

No remark, nothing but silence followed and when the elevator slid to her floor and the doors opened, she stepped out, triumph glittering in her eyes briefly, “She hasn’t said anything, Coulson but...I think it’ll be nice for her to see a familiar face. Now that Thor has been swamped with missions and has Ms Foster.” 

She heard a sigh as the doors slid shut behind her and Natasha smirked before realising that she’d seen Phil more at the mansion than she’d ever seen him at the Tower. She asked Jarvis and he hesitantly explained that Tony had given Phil his own quarters in the mansion, his quarters in the Tower still being built. After unlocking the door to her apartment, she toed off her shoes and padded to the kitchen to retrieve the half-open bottle of vodka demanding her attention in the freezer. 

Darcy Lewis, for better and for worse, was stuck with them. Even if she didn’t know it yet.


	10. Assemble

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place at the end of chapter 17 of the main fic, please enjoy...

**Assemble**

 

 _“Get ready to assemble.”_  

Natasha palmed her Starkphone and lithely stood up from her couch. After spending all morning hunting down Darcy only to be told Steve had found her sequestered in Stark’s lab hadn’t helped her dark mood. And just when she was about to read the new chapter in a book she’d found in Darcy’s apartment, she was called to assemble. 

The door to her quarters slammed open and her body tightened in anticipation before she caught sight of the intruder, “One day you’re going to do that and I’ll shoot you.” She said. 

“That day hasn’t come yet.” Clint snorted as he watched Natasha roll her shoulders and stalk to her fridge. “Did you eat yet?” He called. 

“Did you?” She countered over her shoulder. Clint perched himself on the edge of the couch and caught the apple she threw at his head, “Eat before we go.” She ordered. 

Clint pulled out a knife from his boot and sliced the apple in half, “You too, Tash.” He retorted, tossing her the other half.  

She bared her teeth but obeyed, “Find anything out?” She asked. 

He shrugged, “I was on my way to see Darcy when I got the call.” 

“She needs her rest.” Natasha interrupted. 

 “She needs company.” He retorted, “I found Bucky and Steve arguing.” When her brow rose, Clint grunted, “All I heard was Bucky calling Steve an idiot.” 

Natasha opened her mouth before closing it at the loud commotion of raised voices nearing her door, “This is why I don’t like visitors.” She muttered. 

Clint grinned, “Sure you don’t.” 

“Because you’re an idiot for saying that, Steve. I mean, for fuck’s sake, what were you thinking?” Bucky snapped, shouldering the door to Natasha’s quarters open. He nodded to Clint before stalking into her kitchen, “Hungry.” He grunted to Natasha as he passed her. 

“Hello to you too, Bucky.” She muttered and glanced at a harried looking Steve, “Time for breakfast?” 

Steve ran a hand through his hair and tried to ease the scowl from between his brows, “No, I’m not—” 

“He’ll eat.” Bucky snapped rummaging through Natasha’s fridge. 

“Rough morning?” Natasha asked Bucky. 

“Why don’t you ask Captain Idiot over there.” Bucky snapped slamming containers on the counter. 

Clint grinned, crossing his arms, “Do tell, Captain Idiot.”  
  
Steve frowned, “Darcy has two meetings tomorrow.”

Natasha straightened, “Oh?” 

Clint glanced at her, “Uh-oh.” He muttered knowing he’d have a very early morning awaiting him tomorrow. 

“My point exactly, Nat.” Bucky shouted, slamming the frying pan on the stove. 

“If you’re done beating up my kitchen.” Natasha commented. 

“And she asked if some of the Avengers—” Steve began. 

“And Captain Idiot said no, that Avengers won’t assemble for meetings.” Bucky groused. 

Clint squinted at Steve and pushed away from the couch, “That so?” 

“I wasn’t thinking, Clint. It was just automatic.” Steve began, “It’s a private meeting, I didn’t think we should impose.”  
  
“Yeah, you didn’t think all right.” Bucky shouted, reaching for the plates. 

“Enough.” Natasha said. 

Steve swallowed and turned his attention from the book on the coffee table to meet her gaze, “I made a mistake.” 

“She wanted us to be there for her, to support her and you turned her down.” Bucky barked. 

“James.” Natasha quietly said before turning back to Steve, “Assemble?” 

He nodded, “She’ll need clothes—” 

“Make-up, hair…we’re on it.” Clint nodded once, still sore at the idea of Darcy thinking she was completely alone. 

“Time of the meetings?” Bucky asked coolly, slamming the plates on the table. 

Steve uncrossed his arms and stalked to the kitchen, he wasn’t hungry but the way Bucky and Natasha were staring at him, he’d damn well eat whatever Bucky had made, “Nine and eleven-thirty.” 

“The mansion?” Clint asked taking a seat across from Steve, who nodded in reply. 

Natasha stared dubiously at the plate of food, “Remind me not to let you cook again when you’re upset, Buchanan.” 

Bucky scowled at the table until everyone began eating, “You’re welcome.” He grumbled. 

Natasha turned to Steve, “And next time you feel the need to turn down Darcy, may I remind you that she’s one of us now?” 

“She said she’d rather be a villain.” Clint commented earning a questioning glance from Steve, “What? Who do you think is helping her design her costume? We’ve also decided capes are out of style.” 

“She’s ours.” Natasha said forcefully making sure everyone at the table nodded before she began eating again.

 


	11. The Berserker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three P.O.Vs on one meltdown...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one-shot coincides with Chapter 18.

**The Berserker**

 

Natasha sipped the chilled white wine letting the floral notes hit the tip of her tongue and blossom to honey as she swallowed the golden liquid. She had left Darcy in Clint’s care, the scientists were still sequestered in their labs, Thor was with Dr. Foster on vacation, Bucky was off brooding in some dark corner and Steve had promised her he’d be relaxing in his quarters with a book Darcy had recommended a few weeks back. The way she saw it, she finally had a quiet night to herself without having to worry about anyone or cleaning up their messes. 

She finished the glass of wine and stood to saunter into her kitchen, lazily pouring herself another glass and decided a bath with bubbles would ease the knots from her shoulders. She was tugging off her red camisole when the emergency beeping erupted from the ceiling.

Natasha recognised the sound—Jarvis had only ever used the shrilling beeps when Darcy was involved. She froze and set the glass firmly on the marble countertop, “What is it? Suit up?”

_“Mr. Barton is currently...off kilter, Ms. Natasha.”_

“Call backup but leave the geeks in the basement.” She ordered already halfway out the door, “I can handle this myself.” She muttered slamming her hand on the elevator.

“Stats?” She demanded impatiently. 

_“Ms. Darcy is trying to shield herself from Mr. Barton who is not acting like himself. I have notified both the Soldier and Captain, Ms. Natasha and the Captain has assured me this situation will be taken care of without Darcy being injured.”_

She could tell Jarvis was worried though she had no damn idea how an AI could be sentient and she damn well was going to ignore the silent question about involving Tony in his voice.

Stark would only make matters worse. He’d probably suit up and kick the door down, fire blazing. She began cursing quietly in Russian wondering how her relaxing night had bled to utter chaos in under an hour.

If Coulson ever found out how jittery and shaken she became, always _so_ close to losing her control whenever Darcy was involved, he would no doubt demand she take some much needed time off. 

But the way she figured it, all of the Avengers were shaken when it came to Darcy, it only came down to whoever could hide that fact the best. And she was doing a damn good job so far but when the elevator doors slid open on Darcy’s floor and she heard shouting, her knees trembled and her gaze narrowed to a red.

  


* * *

Steve flipped the last two pancakes over with his spatula, impatiently waiting for them to finish cooking so he could dig into his teetering stack of pancakes and read the fifth chapter of the book Darcy had recommended to him.

He had to admit, there was nothing better than a quiet night in with a book and pancakes. He’d have invited Darcy but Clint had been adamant that it was his evening with her and if he were being honest with himself, he _really_ wanted to finish the book. He had flipped through the first two chapters before training this morning, guilt ridden that he’d have to lie to Darcy about liking the book if he ever managed to finish it.

Yet within the first few pages, he was deliriously lost...zombies, axe murders and a black substance that infected people? He had been set on throwing it back into his gym bag when he shockingly found himself enjoying the thing, on the edge of his seat and almost laughing aloud in certain parts. It was only when Bucky sauntered in demanding to know what was so damn funny that he finally relented and reverently placed the book in his gym bag, careful not to damage it and wondering why it had taken him so long to finally read it.

His stomach growled and he sighed happily as he plated the last two pancakes on the stack and flicked the stove off. He hadn’t even wanted to waste time eating, so drawn was he to the unfolding events in the book but he got grumbly when hungry so he made one of his favourite comfort foods.

Just as he was about to sit down and pour a terribly unhealthy amount of syrup on the stack of pancakes, a series of shrilling beeps broke into the silence of his apartment and his stomach clenched realising what it meant—Darcy was in trouble.

 _“Captain, I am to inform you that Black Widow requests your aid in Ms. Darcy’s wing immediately.”_  Jarvis hurriedly said.

Steve shoved away from the table, the book falling to the floor forgotten and ran to his bedroom grabbing his shield before running to the elevator. He wasn’t going to waste any time suiting up, not when it came to saving Darcy.

He closed his mind off to the myriad of scenes flashing through his mind, growing colder as the scenes grew bloodier until he was clenching his jaw so tight he was surprised his teeth didn’t shatter, “ Intruders?”

_“It is Mr. Barton, Captain. He is not himself.”_

“And Darcy is with him?” Steve cursed and forced himself to clear his mind, counting to a hundred until he was calm and his breathing had evened out. “The others?” 

 _“Black Widow only requested Soldier and yourself, Captain. She aims to localise the...issue.”_ Jarvis explained. 

He nodded, grimly pleased, “Good. Dr. Banner and Stark are wild cards we can’t afford to unleash. Localise and contain.” He nodded once more and when the elevator doors slid open and he saw Natasha stream by in a flicker of red and black, shouting echoing from Darcy’s room, he hiked his shield closer to his chest and _ran._

 

* * *

 

 

Bucky was not happy.

Not one bit.

  
Not since this morning though he was trying his damnedest to ignore the reason why. Or rather _who_ was making him so upset. But if he thought about it—and damned as he tried not to—he still did, he would become riled all over again.  

He leaned against the stone wall of the mansion and breathed in the chilled night air. The garden was cloaked in the inky darkness of night and was silent save for a few crickets singing lullabies and any other time, he would have been a little relaxed. Now? He was so far from relaxed he was almost trembling from frustration and anger.

The others thought he was still suffering nicotine withdrawals and the first week or two, he had been a cranky son of a bitch but now he couldn’t even blame that. No, his reason was deeper and more vibrant; his reason was a little five-foot-three bombshell with a halo of tangled curly hair, eyes that saw too much and a mouth men would kill for. He certainly had—no, he was _not_ going to think about her. No. He had no damn business thinking about her.

Just as he kept pushing her crooked smiles and stormy eyes from his mind, he would close his eyes for a few minutes and he would suddenly be drowning in her again. He was so damned pissed off.

After too many looks from Natasha, questioning silences from Steve and Clint’s annoyed sighs, Bucky had had enough. So now he found himself outside in the mansion’s garden; yes him, the Winter Soldier in the garden, trying to calm down and remind himself that people like him, half dead and stained beyond redemption, do not get chances with people like her. _Ever_. He should just be grateful he wasn’t dead—though he often thought things would have been better that way.

He had finally given up and closed his eyes breathing in memories of her when his Stark Phone began beeping urgently. He knew what that meant and ripped the phone from his pocket, “What?” He snapped already running inside. He still had nightmares about almost being too late to save her, he was never going to take another chance and risk losing something so precious ever again.

 _“Mr. Barnes, Black Widow is requesting your aid in localising a threat made to Ms. Darcy.”_  Jarvis explained.

“Who?” He seethed punching the elevator button so hard he heard a loud crack emanate from the wall.

_“....Mr. Barton, sir.”_

That was all Bucky needed to know and for the entire five seconds it took for him in the elevator—the longest five seconds he never wanted to relive, he had already thought of hundreds of scenarios where he’d ripped Barton apart.

He stepped from the elevator and quickly sidestepped a shield carrying Steve who came barrelling past him towards the shouting echoing from Darcy’s room. He bared his teeth and took off after Steve. 

When Banner would later pull him aside and quietly ask what the commotion had been about, he would struggle to find an answer. He still struggled to wrap his head around the insanity of shouldering past Natasha and Steve to find Darcy wiggling in Clint’s arms as he tried to wrestle slippers from her feet. If the three of them hadn’t been trained in containing their expressions, they all would have been gaping.

He saw the chaotic state her room was in, her hoarse throat and chalky skin and he stepped from the room trying to contain his rage and bloodlust. He heard Natasha and Steve shouting at Clint and he leaned against the wall wishing he had a reason to rip her from Clint’s arms and check for injuries.

He wanted to be the first one in her room and the last to leave and for the first time in a long while, he wished he could hope for more. But instead, he forced himself to be content watching from the side lines as Natasha and Steve contained the situation and when he heard Clint shouting his reasons for his mini-meltdown, he had to bite back the sudden urge to teach Barton the same lesson he had taught the mercenaries who had hurt her.

Steve left Darcy’s room, shield in tow and stood beside him, “What an idiot.” He murmured and Bucky grunted in agreement.

Natasha closed the door behind her and studied the two of them, a savage smile on her face, “I was planning on taking a bath.”

“I had a book and pancakes waiting for me.” Steve shook his head, the evening had turned sour so utterly fast. _What a waste_ , he thought grumpily.

They turned to Bucky and he grunted a few expletives before adding, “Don’t look at me, I was keeping company with the damned crickets.”

“Crickets?” Steve asked turning fully around to study his friend when Darcy’s door opened and Clint stumbled from the room.

“I’m only letting you kick me out!” He shouted at the door.

 _“I know and thank you!”_ Darcy replied, her shouts muffled by the door.

Natasha moved silently behind Clint and in a blink of an eye, Clint found himself on the floor grabbing his ribcage with a wince. 

“Don’t ever ruin my evening again.” Natasha said calmly, though they all understood the barbed threats beneath her words. She turned on her heels, nodded once to Bucky and left the corridor quietly as a whisper.

“Will do.” Clint grimaced and let Steve help him to his feet.

Steve roughly dusted Clint’s shoulders from the invisible dirt, “My punishment for scaring Darcy is leaving you with a very pissed off Bucky.” He grinned, patted Bucky on the shoulder and trailed down the hall whistling. 

“Don’t...leave...” Clint gasped through his sore ribs catching sight of the spine-chilling Winter Soldier lounging against the wall. 

Bucky smirked ignoring Clint’s curses and pushed away from the wall stalking towards him. He glanced once more at Darcy’s closed door before he turned his focus on Clint and _moved._


	12. The Finding Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides to chapter 20 of the main fic.

**The Finding Out**

 

“As I was saying before Stark interrupted me—”

“You were boring me, Captain.” Tony retorted. 

“Tony.” Natasha quietly warned from her perch on the love-seat adjacent to him.

Bruce coughed hiding a smile behind his fist and made sure to shrug when Tony nudged him, “My throat is dry.” He quietly explained.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “Sure it is.”

Steve sighed and turned to the large television in the common room where they regularly had their official and unofficial meetings, “It’s pointless trying to get their attention, Thor.”

Thor’s grinning face moved around the room, “I must say, Captain, I surely do not miss these gatherings.”   
  
Steve smiled and studied Thor through their video chat, his thunderous voice booming loud and clear. He was amazed at how eager Thor had been to try out video calling and had made sure to never miss any of their ‘meetings’ since he was away on missions and then later, a long vacation with Dr. Foster. 

Steve on the other hand, _hated_ how unstructured their meetings always became whenever one of them lost interest in the conversation. He still got annoyed remembering the three hour conversation Tony, Dr. Banner and Clint had had about the differences between Panini and grilled sandwiches.

He knew Natasha agreed with him though from her relaxed spot and amused face, he almost couldn’t even tell she was losing patience. _Almost_ but by the third interruption made by Tony and Clint snapping at each other, the corner of her lip lifted and her fingers stopped their drumming on the leather armrest. 

“Enough!” Thor boomed, “I grow weary hearing yet again about Sparkles and—”

“Sparky.” Bruce corrected wondering why he was involving himself in this exhaustive fight. Maybe he really was spending too much time out of the lab. How else could he explain the rationale of entering a bickering match between Clint and Tony? He rubbed his forehead trying to focus on the different types of tea he could be making himself instead of hearing about Clint’s wounded pride.

“Yes, thank you Dr. Banner.” Natasha murmured dryly.

Steve smirked and let his head fall against the back of the couch, ignoring Bucky’s annoyed fidgets from beside him on the two person sofa. None of them wanted to have yet another impromptu meeting when they weren’t technically supposed to even have any for another three days but he had a feeling Tony had called for it just to hear Clint complain about Darcy’s briefcase full of Tasers. He wasn’t keen on the idea but he was smart enough to know that Darcy protecting herself was a good thing, even if she did get a bit too excited wanting to fry pop tarts with them. 

“I do not mind taking on more missions here,” Thor explained over Clint’s snappish remarks about glitter. “And I am proud Darcy can now readily call thunder. She is indeed my sister!” He grinned hearing Clint’s grunts.

“You’re just saying that because Tony promised you he’d design a Thor-style Taser.” Clint muttered. 

Thor smiled hugely, “The Man of Iron has assured me it is to—” He glanced at Tony for help, “How did you put it?”

“It’s more for fashion coordination.” He explained to everyone and caught Bruce’s wide eyes, “You know...to go with her Thor watch.”

Steve chortled, “You know Dr. Banner was staring at you like that because you’re crazy, not because he couldn’t understand you, right?”

Tony shook his head and studied Bruce, “Nope, you’re wrong.” He said with certainty and grinned at Steve.

“When will Darcy be ready for training?” Thor asked Natasha.

She perked up, “In a few short weeks. We’re going to start slow and build up; conditioning and then move to training.”

He nodded pleased with the idea, “I shall put her in your care then, Lady Natasha.”

“Thank you, Thor.” She smiled before settling back into the couch.

Bruce glanced around the room suddenly nervous. He didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, especially when it came to Darcy and the Avengers. They did have a bad habit of shooting the messenger but they then had to know she may not be around in a few weeks time. Not when he saw the suitcases she had packed. 

He understood why she wanted to leave but it didn’t mean he had to like it and if he told the rest of them? He was doomed, he thought morosely. He rubbed his face wearily and yawned; this is why he liked his lab.

“Tony—” He began.

Tony, having spent the most time with Bruce, heard the worry in his voice and turned to him, his grin falling from his face, “What? Something happen? Something going to happen?” He asked wondering if the big green guy was going to be paying them all a visit.

 _“Sir, if I may be so rude as to interrupt?”_ Jarvis hesitantly said.

“Come at me, Jarvis.” Tony said reaching for his Stark Phone from the armrest when he felt it vibrate. 

_“I have sent...information to you for your perusal, sir.”_

“Why the secrecy?” Tony mumbled unlocking his phone and frowning in concentration. It took him a full minute—quite embarrassing really, to make out what he was seeing but when he did, he began to sweat. Not a good sweat from training but a horrid, clammy nervous sweat that meant he was almost too late.

“What’s wrong?” Clint asked noticing the way Tony was suddenly gripping his phone. 

“When were you going to tell me, Jarvis?” Tony seethed flicking through the many pages of apartment listings the two troublemakers had gone through earlier that evening, “When it was already too late?” He snapped, “You and your damn scheming. I should just unplug you and go lumberjack for the rest of my days.”

Natasha set her feet on the ground and straightened her back waiting to pounce. She had no idea what was happening, none of them did but if it involved Jarvis pissing Tony off, it surely involved Darcy as well. She knew those two were thick as thieves. 

“Uh...Tony? Can I talk to you?” Bruce said rubbing his suddenly itchy arms. The tension in the room was unbearable and all he wanted to do was hide in his lab but his conscience wouldn’t let him.

“Not now, Bruce.” Tony waved him away.

“But...” He hedged until Tony turned to study him.

Tony’s eyes narrowed, “You knew?”

Bruce nodded once before standing up, “Only because I saw—”

He held up his hand, “Stop...just go to the lab and calm down, you’re starting to look a little green. I’ll take care of it.”

“You will?” Bruce asked once more and waited for Tony’s affirmation before quietly leaving the room.

“If someone doesn’t tell me what the hell is happening I’m going to go berserk.” Clint stated.

“Darcy.” Steve said quietly and sighed when Bucky began grimly cursing beside him.

“We spend more time trying to save her than we do saving the world.” Clint commented. 

“What did you say?” Bucky demanded lowly, his eyes turning to molten rage. 

Clint shook his head, “Nothing.”

“Damn straight.” Steve retorted.

“Over my dead body am I going to let this happen. Jarvis, shut this place down.” Tony stood, his eyes still glued to his phone, “Talk to you later, big guy.” He said once to Thor before leaving the room slowly.

“What is all this about?” Thor demanded itching for action.

Steve stared at the empty doorway, “Not too sure myself.”

“We’ll set things straight.” Bucky promised. 

Natasha heard the lifting footsteps and knew the moment he stepped from the common room, he had broken into a dead run. She unfolded herself from the couch following after him and soon, only after Thor had ended the video call with them promising that they’d keep him updated on what was happening, did they follow after Tony.

 

 

Tony was livid. 

In fact, he was more than livid. He was panicked and annoyed that once he had turned his back, Jarvis had plotted with Darcy. Not on taking over the world, that would have been easy to handle—no, it was something worse.

Something so insidious he kept muttering about unplugging Jarvis in retaliation. It was about her moving out. Moreover, about her moving away from him. Like hell he was going to agree to that! 

She was his daughter—he even had the paperwork to back that up! Shouldn’t she get his permission before leaving the nest? “Now I’m thinking like Clint.” He muttered pacing around the small elevator, “Slow down all the elevators except mine, Jarvis. I want to get to her first.” He ordered. 

 _“Of course, sir.”_ Jarvis said instantly, no doubt afraid Tony was going to shut the servers down. _Good_ , he thought savagely.

The moment the elevators opened, he broke into a run towards her room.  “Where is she?” He snapped.

 _“Third left from her room.”_  Jarvis said and as Tony neared he heard the damn AI warn Darcy, _“My deepest apologies Ms. Darcy but I was programmed to relay any and all information on your future whereabouts to Mr. Stark.”_

“Am I in danger?” He heard her squeaks and he forced himself to slow down, not wanting to scare her...too much. A good amount of fear would help in getting her to stay, right?

“Damn it! Aren’t we all working together?” Steve snapped from a few metres behind him.

“Can someone please tell me what’s happening?” Clint demanded.

“Its Darcy...do you need all the details?” Bucky snapped.

 _“Of course not, Ms. Darcy but you do know how Mr. Stark likes the odd flair for dramatics.”_ Jarvis’ voice chastised and Tony all but glared at the damn ceiling as he turned the corner.

“I’m not being dramatic, Jarvis! I should just listen to Birdman and pull the damn plug on you once and for all!” Tony snapped nearing a pale Darcy. He forced himself to slow and waved back the running Avengers as they neared, a few seconds behind thanks to Jarvis.

Darcy swallowed nervously and had enough courage to push away from the wall and close the gap between her and a visibly sweating Tony, “Is everything okay? Did something happen?”

Tony forced himself to calm down but glared at her instead, “Yes something happened! Kiddo, you can’t go filling Jarvis’ head with ideas— _horrible ideas_ , by the way. You don’t get that from me, I can tell you that.”

She frowned at him, clearly confused but he wasn’t falling for that. No way in hell was he going to! If he had to play the controlling, heavy handed father role he saw in the movies Pepper liked so much, he was damn well going to win an Oscar then. She had changed him, for better and for worse, which was almost impossible because he was walking perfection but still.

Darcy was in his life now, he couldn’t even imagine a day without her and though he didn’t see her all that much, it was the knowledge that she was safe and near that kept him going. Kept him from maudlin, made him more creative when it came to inventing; since she had moved in, he had finally perfected four inventions that had been rotting away for months, just collecting dust. She had changed that! No way was he going to let her go. Darcy Lewis was now Darcy Lewis Stark even if she didn’t know it yet.  For better and for worse.

 


End file.
